


What If: Enjolnine

by FanOfFandoms



Category: Les Misérables (2012)
Genre: AU, Barricade wins, Enjolnine, F/M, Gen, Romance, Vive La France
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-15 13:01:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 39
Words: 116,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3448127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanOfFandoms/pseuds/FanOfFandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if it wasn't Marius who found Eponine dying on the barricade, but Enjolras? What if they had met before? What if he refused to simply let her die? </p><p>A series of originally-one-shots worked into something of a continuous fic detailing Enjolras and Eponine's lives together after the success of the Barricade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not Many People

**Author's Note:**

> Prologue: In which Enjolras is Eponine's unlikely saviour at the Rue Plumet.

**What if Enjolras rescued Éponine from her father's beating?**

Enjolras found himself getting progressively annoyed with one Marius Pontmercy. Not only had the student arrived late for that night's meeting, he had been distant and distracted from the second he'd walked in.

"Marius, you're late," Enjolras said seriously as said student made his way up the stairs.

"Oh, sorry," Marius smiled sheepishly at him, "I was looking for Éponine. She's doing me a favour."

"And I suppose you couldn't wait one night to find out if she had completed said favour?" Enjolras commented dryly, "Just sit down and pay attention. We have much to discuss."

When Enjolras finished speaking ten minutes later, the small smile that had formed as he spoke so passionately of how they would save the people of France turned to a frown. Marius was staring out of the window from his seat, his eyes glazed over and a smile on his face as he reminisced.

"Marius, what is wrong with you today?!" he demanded, "I'm beginning to think that you didn't listen to a word of what I just said. Please, for the sake of my sanity, say that I am wrong." Marius said nothing, simply looking guilty.

"I'm sorry, Enjolras," he said, "I've just got a lot on my mind."

"Haven't we all, mon ami?" Joly grinned, "You look much worse than the rest of us, however. Why, it's as if you've spotted a ghost during the day!" Marius smiled slightly.

"She may well have been a ghost," he said, his voice happy as he remembered Cosette, "I only saw her for a moment."

"Good God," Grantaire feigned a look of shock, "Has Pontmercy finally found himself a lady?! And here I was, thinking that it would never occur!" Everyone turned to Grantaire, a few chuckling at his statement, "I mean, here is our dear Apollo, preaching about the rights of the people, of how we should all devote our lives to achieve equality... And in comes our friend Marius, as love-struck as one about to be married!"

The Amis all laughed as Grantaire made his speech, watching as the man waved his arms around in an impression of a lovesick Marius. Only Enjolras was uninterested in the scene.

As the laughter died down, the revolutionary leader once again took the podium, "It is high time we all stopped acting like schoolchildren," he stated seriously, looking at those around him, "We are grown men, fighting for a cause. Or, do we fight for the right to love, now? Do we fight for something that we are already privileged enough to have?" the men around him were now silent, and Grantaire had the decency to at least look slightly ashamed.

"We all need to think of the consequences that may occur when the time for us to fight comes. We are not children; we need to stop acting as if we are. We must take charge of our own lives, and things that take our attention away from what is important must not distract us. The world is changing by the day, mes amis, and the people call for our help and our help alone, for we are the only ones who will fight for them. "

"You don't understand, Enjolras!" Marius protested, "If you had seen her today... you would be as struck as I am. She captured my heart without even trying. It is she who is changing my world, never mind the government changing the country."

"Please, Marius!" Grantaire called, "Enlighten us on how your beloved has captured your soul, for you clearly wish to express your irrepressible feelings!"

"She makes me feel as if my world is focused solely on her," Marius began immediately, apparently not hearing the groans from the Amis, "She sets my very heart, my very  _soul_ , on fire. Without her... I am nothing."

"All of that from one bloody glance across the street..." Courfeyrac muttered to Feuilly who chuckled quietly.

"Marius, you are not a child." Enjolras said firmly, "There are more important things in life than this girl, whoever she may be. You have been an asset to the cause up until now. I urge you to not make the mistake of changing that."

"No one care about your lonely soul, Marius!" Grantaire called, "We have more important things to do, obviously. Our dear leader has spelt it out for you, has he not?"

"We must live by the colours of the world we live in, my friends," Enjolras' voice rose, "We must change as they do, and we must fight for what is right. We are mere pawns in a much larger game."

Before he could continue, Gavroche burst into the room, making everyone fall silent.

"General Lamarque is dead."

Silence fell across the room once more; Lamarque? Dead? They all knew that this day had been coming. What they hadn't expected was for it to arrive so soon.

"Lamarque's death is the sign we have been waiting for," Enjolras said quietly, "On his funeral day, we shall fight, in his name, for the people of France. We will free the oppressed and we shall make our country a better place! Prepare yourselves, mes amis. Our time is almost here!"

As cheers erupted from those in the room, Marius dashed to the stairs, only Enjolras seeing him go. Éponine waited for him on the lower landing of the staircase, and they conversed quietly for a moment before Éponine led him away.

Enjolras watched them go, his friend who had been led astray, and the curious girl who seemed to be so much more than what she seemed to be on the surface. He barely listened to a word Courfeyrac said to him in the next thirty seconds, unable to concentrate on anything except Marius' exit.

"Excuse me, mon ami," he said quietly. Courfeyrac nodded understandingly, instead turning to Combeferre to continue his speech.

Unbeknown to Marius and Éponine, Enjolras followed them all the way to Cosette's. Of course, he was going to keep an eye on Marius; he didn't want his friend to get too carried away and propose to her or anything stupid like that. Marius was, as Enjolras had said before, an asset to the cause; he wanted to keep it that way.

But then he thought of the way Éponine looked at Marius when he wasn't looking. It was a look of love, and happiness, but also of pain and disappointment.

And that interested Enjolras. He had never quite understood why people pretended to feel something different to what they were actually feeling, but here it was happening right in front of him. It wasn't unknown that Éponine had a thing for Marius; yes, she was a fighter and she got herself in her fair share of sticky situations, but there were times when she really did follow Marius around as if she was a puppy and he was her owner. It was if her very personality contradicted itself.

'So why on Earth was she helping Marius find his true love?' was the real question that had struck Enjolras as he had slipped away from the commotion inside the cafe. Which brought him to where he was now, following Éponine and Marius down a maze of streets, always staying out of sight; he wasn't stupid after all, and knew that Marius would happily punch him without any reservations if he found out.

Enjolras noted how Éponine stood back as Marius approached the girl of his dreams at her garden gate, the two expressing their love for each other. The pain was clear on Éponine's face, and Enjolras frowned; was Marius really so blind that he could not notice Éponine's so obvious feelings? Perhaps it was so, as he seemed to have eyes only for the girl he had spotted momentarily across the street.

Enjolras remained behind a wall as Marius and Cosette conversed, watching both the loving couple and Éponine, trying to decide which of the two left him more annoyed.

A man's voice rang out, supposedly Marius' love's father, calling Cosette inside. Marius watched after her as she ran back to the house, before turning around reluctantly, passing both Éponine and Enjolras without even noticing them.

Éponine stood there, apparently trying to hold herself together as different footsteps echoes down the side street. Enjolras backed further into the shadows to avoid detection, and a group of men passed by his hiding place, their voices ringing out.

"Who is this hussy?" Thénardier sneered. Enjolras grimaced angrily; was the man so stupid that he didn't recognise his own daughter in the night?

"It's your brat Éponine, don't you know your own kid?" one of his idiot gang voiced Enjolras' own thoughts.

"Éponine, get on home, we're enough here without you." Thénardier said, walking past her and waving her away. Éponine looked around desperately.

"I know this house," she said desperately, "There's nothing here for you! Just an old man and his daughter, there's nothing about them to bring you here!"

"Don't interfere," Thénardier said, his voice quiet but harsh, "You've got some gall. Take care, my girl, or your mouth shall run away from you and-"

"I'm going to scream, I'm going to warn them! The police will come!" she said, a hint of defiance added to the desperation in her tone.

"One little scream," Thénardier said, his voice sharp and warning, "You'll regret it for a year."

Éponine looked around desperately, before screaming as loud as she could. This caught Enjolras' attention, and he leaned forward to look around the side of the wall. Éponine did not cower in front of her poor excuse of a father as he threatened her.

"You wait, my girl, you'll rue this night, I'll make you scream-" Éponine had no reservations when it came to spitting in her father's face, "You'll scream alright!"

Enjolras was on the verge of breaking point; how dare he treat Éponine, strong, beautiful Éponine, in such a way as that?!

The crack of Thénardier's palm connecting with Éponine's face pushed Enjolras over the edge.

"If I were you, monsieur, I would think before I act," Enjolras' said, his voice careless but the threat unmistakable, "But I am not you. And therefore, all I can do is strongly suggest that you keep your hands to yourself." Éponine met his eyes and she shook her head slightly, warning him away from the situation.

"Oh, you do, do you?" Thénardier sneered, approaching him.

"That's right, monsieur." Enjolras said, looking down slightly at the pathetic excuse of a man.

"I think this  _little boy_  needs to be taught a lesson!" Thénardier laughed threateningly.

Enjolras scoffed, "I beg you to try," he said, spreading his arms out to welcome the men to have a go, "But I will warn you: I am a revolutionary. I am armed with more than one weapon and I am certainly not afraid to go down fighting. Oh, and..." he cocked his head slightly, listening, "I believe your daughter had alerted the police. So, do please run along, monsieur, because, frankly: you're both boring me, and wasting my time."

Thénardier stood back slightly, glancing around to his followers. They all looked to him for guidance.

"Make for the sewers," Thénardier said suddenly, "Go underground!" the men scattered, leaving Éponine alone with Enjolras.

"Why did you do that?" she asked as he approached her.

"Because your father is an ass." Enjolras said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "And he hurt you."

"That was nothing," she muttered. Enjolras frowned, confused, "My father is not the only ass I live around." Was the only explanation Éponine offered him. Enjolras brushed her cheek, red from the hit. She flinched away slightly, then leaned into his hand, smiling at the warmth on her face. Drops of rain fell onto the pavement, then onto the two of them, progressing from a few drops to a downpour in a matter of seconds.

"Come," Enjolras took her hand in his, "It won't do us any good standing out in the rain." She smiled, leaning against his arm as they walked.

"Thank you," she said quietly, "Not many people would have stepped in."

"I'm not 'many people'," Enjolras shrugged, "And, for the record, I, er... I think Marius is an ass. And a blind one at that." Éponine grimaced, but shrugged.

"Perhaps he is," she muttered, "Are you an ass?"

"I sincerely hope not," Enjolras chuckled, "Grantaire may disagree."

"I don't believe you're an ass," Éponine told him seriously, "Spirited, maybe. Not an ass."

"Thank you, mademoiselle," he nodded.

For the next few minutes, they walked in silence before Éponine spoke again.

"Monsieur, if I may... I must ask that you tell no one of what you saw," she said quietly, "Obviously I have no right to ask anything of you but-"

"Your secret is safe with me, mademoiselle," he assured her. She smiled.

"Thank you," she said, "Again, I suppose. I know you didn't have to do either of those things."

"It wouldn't do for me to deny anything of one who fights for my cause, would it?" he questioned as the Musain came into sight.

The two of them were soaked through by the time they reached the cafe, and they received several suggestive glances from members of Les Amis de L'ABC.

The two separated, Éponine going back to the small room she called home to change, and Enjolras into the very centre of the planning for the next day's revolution, acting as if he had never been gone. Beneath their apparent distractions, however, neither forgot the few short minutes they had spent together. And both of them secretly wished for more time like that.

 


	2. And He Carried Her Through the Storm

**What if Enjolras was the first one to Éponine after she'd been shot?**

The preparations for the rebellion were almost complete three days later; with Lamarque's funeral the next day, he was confident in the plans he and the Amis had developed over the previous days. He even found himself to be excited; the day had finally arrived, after months of tireless and dedicated planning.

The night before the rebellion, however, Enjolras found his thoughts drifting to things besides the rebellion. Don't get him wrong, he  _was_  focused; he was thinking about how the rebellion would help the oppressed in France, should it succeed. It was a very valid, very  _relevant_ thought.

The not-so-relevant thought was the fact that, whilst thinking of how the rebellion would help the oppressed, Enjolras' mind decided to swap to a different topic:

_Éponine._

It was stupid. He knew it was, really. There was, after all, a very high chance that he wouldn't even survive the rebellion. Besides, he didn't really know  _why_  his mind kept flicking to Éponine; he had never truly experienced the feeling of attraction towards a woman, and he never really expected to. Patria was his only love... In theory, that is. What he was feeling towards Éponine was... strange.

Thinking this through as he lay in bed, he shook his head.

_There's a time and a place to finally find love, Enjolras,_  he thought to himself, rolling over and pulling the blanket on his bed up higher,  _now is not it._

* * *

The following morning, Enjolras pushed the thoughts of Éponine aside; he had a rebellion to partake in.

"Are you quite well, mon ami?" Combeferre questioned as them made their way into the crowds walking to line the streets where the procession for Lamarque's funeral would take place, "You look like you've been up half the night! Did the excitement catch hold?" Enjolras smiled slightly.

"Something like that," he replied, ducking past a group of well-dressed old men, "Honestly, half of the people here are just mindless politicians who are here because they're required to..."

"You think so?" Combeferre frowned, "He was a popular, likable man, Enjolras... I imagine he had  _some_  friends, at least."

"Perhaps," Enjolras agreed, "But I've counted at least thirty-... four politicians. There were far too many who disagreed with his views of the people to be his 'friends', as you put it." Combeferre sighed.

"Sometimes, I wish you didn't have a point," he muttered, following Enjolras as his friend sped up to get to the front of the crowd at the edge of the street.

* * *

Éponine frowned as she pulled the cap lower over her head; the things she did for Marius... Because she was, of course, only there to protect him. Keeping Marius safe was her number one priority.

Or that was what she kept telling herself.

The revolutionary leader (who, she kept having to remind herself) saved her from a possible beating) had intrigued her... he had been right by saying that he was 'not many people'. Not even her precious Marius would have done what Enjolras did.

Which made her question: did she love Marius? Perhaps. She certainly felt something akin to love, or what little she knew of the emotion anyway. But he would never risk himself for her, he had proved that the night she had taken him to meet Cosette. But Enjolras...

Enjolras was something else. And that was where she intended to stay on the matter.

Pulling her cap down further, she launched herself into the chaos now following General Lamarque's coffin down the street.

She was, after all, there to keep Marius safe, something she wouldn't achieve from standing on the sidelines trying to work out the mystery that was the revolutionary leader standing on top of the coffin carriage.

* * *

Enjolras took the flaming torch from Marius, one part of him wondering what the hell the stupid sod was doing, and the other part admiring him for what he had done for the cause. He threw the torch in a bucket of water, hearing the sizzle of the dying flame.  _Appropriate,_  he thought,  _that even fire, capable of so much destruction, is dying because of the cause._

He followed Marius down the stairs, hearing several people holler to him; it was a definite mixture of love and hate amongst everyone in the barricade towards Marius at that very moment. As Marius' way was blocked by some angry person, Enjolras carried on forwards, almost tripping over Éponine, who was lying on the floor.

"Éponine?" he questioned. She looked up, surprise etched across her face.

"Enjolras," she acknowledged him, "How do you know my name?"

"Probably the same way you know mine," he said frowning, "I listen. You're well known around here, Éponine. And it would be terribly rude of me to help a woman in her time of need without finding out her name."

"I find it hard to believe that I am more well-known than you," she said, almost smirking. She winced in pain, and Enjolras crouched down beside her, a concerned look on his face.

"What's wrong?" he asked. Éponine smiled slightly; his reputation exceeded him, and therefore she knew how very rare it was for him to show any kind of concern or compassion for anything or anyone except his cause.

"It's nothing," she said, pulling her jacket tighter around her to try and hide her wound. Enjolras' sharp eyes noticed the movement, however, and he pulled her coat back again.

"You're hurt," he said, "You need help!" she shook her head.

"There's nothing to be done now," she took his hand in hers, pulling it away from her coat.

"Whilst you are still breathing, there is  _something_  that can be done." Enjolras insisted.

"Then you won't have to wait very long," she said. Even Enjolras could not deny that her voice was weaker.

"You shouldn't be here," Enjolras shook his head, "You... you shouldn't suffer. Not for this."

"What makes me any different than all of the others here?" she demanded, her voice a little stronger with anger, "There is nothing special about me, monsieur. And my suffering will do little to change the course of the cause for which we are fighting." Enjolras chuckled.

"My dear, Éponine," he shook his head proudly, "You have been listening out for me, haven't you? I'm honoured, truly. But you will not die here."

And with that, he scooped her up into his arms, earning him not only a gasp of pain from Éponine, but a slapped face alongside.

"Is that your way of saying thank you, Athena?" Enjolras asked, smirking.

"Athena?" Éponine frowned at the new nickname.

"The Goddess of wisdom and war," Enjolras said, "Fitting, don't you think?"

"You're very full of yourself, Apollo," Éponine said, "I'm not sure your attitude was what I expected to be faced with in my final moments."

"Well, perhaps it won't be," Enjolras murmured, "For your final moments are a long way of, mademoiselle."

"I suppose there is little point in arguing with you, monsieur?" Éponine asked wearily.

"No point at all," Enjolras agreed. Éponine sighed, but rested her head against Enjolras' shoulder.

"Marius," Enjolras caught his attention as he passed. The student in question had been arguing with Grantaire (a very  _drunk_  Grantaire, and so the argument was more than certainly pointless).

"Éponine?!" Marius said worriedly, "What is it, what's wrong?"

Talking over Éponine's feeble attempts to assure Marius she was fine, Enjolras handed out his orders, "I'm taking her to the nearest hospital. You, and Combeferre, wherever he is... do not let this place fall tonight. I'll be back sometime before morning. No one else dies until the cause is achieved, you hear me?"

"Received and understood," Marius nodded.

"Marius," Éponine said quietly, slipping the letter from Cosette out of her pocket. She handed it to him, "It's from Cosette. I kept it from you... I'm sorry." Marius looked down at the note in his hand, before kissing Éponine softly on the forehead.

"Bring her home," he demanded on Enjolras, who shook his head unbelievably.

"What other result would I accept from this?" he asked rhetorically. Marius clasped his shoulder, and the two men shared a knowing look before Enjolras set off.

Enjolras travelled as fast as he dared so as not to cause Éponine any unnecessary pain. More than once she told him that what he was doing was futile, and each time he denied, but allowed her to continue babbling; as long as she was talking, she wasn't dying, and that thought kept him focused on getting her where she needed to be.

About half way there, rain started to fall onto the two of them. Enjolras shifted Éponine in his arms and slipped off his beloved red jacket, draping it over her despite her protests.

"Enjolras, I can't just take your coat-"

"Éponine, you're the one wounded and at risk of infection; I can last an hour or two without my jacket!"

Éponine groaned, "Why must you be so stubborn?!" she demanded.

"ME?! Your reputation exceeds you, mademoiselle, and I can safely say that I am most certainly  _not_  the stubborn one!"

"You needn't fret, monsieur," she said quietly, "I'll be fine. You're rather focused on that fact, are you not?"

And Enjolras was. But he wouldn't give Éponine the satisfaction of knowing she was right, whether she was on the brink of death or not.

It felt like an age, and Éponine was considerably weaker by the end of it, but Enjolras did it: he managed to get Éponine to a hospital before either of them had lost their lives.

The second he walked into the hospital he was overwhelmed by a swarm of doctors and nurses. Enjolras was about to leave Éponine in their capable hands, knowing that she was in the best place at that moment in time, but she held onto his hand.

"Stay with me?" she begged. Enjolras experienced something he never had before: the inability to say no to someone.

And so he sat by her bedside as the doctors worked, singing softly to her as she drifted in and out of consciousness. He sat with her for hours until, finally, the doctors told him that she was out of danger.

With that news, Enjolras left a sleeping Éponine at the hospital, leaving a message with a nurse that he would return in a day's time. Never before had he believed in his cause more. He finally realised that this is how Marius felt about Cosette: like she was what he was fighting for.

And Enjolras vowed to come out alive, for Éponine's sake. His cause was no longer the only thing that mattered. Now he had Éponine.

Enjolras returned to the barricade in the early hours of the morning to find everyone gathered outside the cafe, soaking wet, the gunpowder nowhere to be seen.

"Enjolras!" Marius exclaimed happily, before noticing Éponine's absence, "Is..."

"She is safe," Enjolras assured him, "And out of danger." Gavroche, who had been listening in a few feet away, sighed with relief.

"You saved my sister," Gavroche said, "I owe you. Big time."

"You stand beside me and my cause, Gavroche," Enjolras almost smiled, a sight very rarely seen by Les Amis de L'ABC, "You owe me nothing. Now, what is going on with this absurd gathering in the middle of the barricade?! What is wrong with inside, out of immediate shooting range?"

"We were protecting the gunpowder from the rain," Marius explained, "We'll get ourselves killed a lot quicker without anything to protect ourselves with."Enjolras nodded his approval.

"Listen, everybody!" he called out, climbing on top of a chair that was just about intact, "No more shall die for this cause. We shall fight for our right to be free. And we shall win. Because we are not only fighting for a better France. We are fighting for ourselves. For our right to live how we like. For our right to  _live_. I know many of you generally think I'm a crazy, heartless sod. That I fight against my enemies without so much as a thought to others around me, and if you do think that, then you are most probably right. But my eyes have been opened by something I never expected to change me. And now I do not just fight to make a point, or to cause trouble. I fight to win."

The silence almost echoed down the streets as everyone scared up at Enjolras, gobsmacked by their leader's speech. And then, in unison:

" _Red- the blood of angry men,_

_Black- the dark of ages past."_  Enjolras smiled, properly smiled, and joined in with his fellow fighters: his friends.

" _Red- a world about to dawn,_

_Black- the night that ends at last!_ "

* * *

Later that night, Enjolras found himself keeping watch. His mind wouldn't stop focusing on Éponine and, though he realised that this could be the death of him if it took his focus away from the fight, he didn't care.

He turned his head as he heard someone climbing the barricade behind him, and came face to face with Grantaire.

"Mind if I join you?" the drunkard asked, his words slurring slightly. Enjolras grimaced, but gestured for the man to sit beside him.

"I honestly cannot believe that you're getting drunk at a time like this," Enjolras muttered.

"It might be the last chance I get, Apollo," Grantaire shrugged, "You can't begrudge me it when I may be dead this time tomorrow."

"I told you," Enjolras said, "No one else is going to die."

"Yes, yes, I know," Grantaire waved him off, "You don't just fight for the people, you fight for equality for all, blah, blah. It was too hard for you to just come out and say it, I suppose?" Enjolras frowned.

"Say what, exactly?" he questioned. Grantaire chuckled.

"Either you haven't realised yourself or you are as blind as Pontmercy. Or both," Grantaire said, "You're not just fighting for the people, or for yourself, or 'to win' as you put it: you're fighting for Éponine." Enjolras opened his mouth to argue and then found that he had nothing to protest. Grantaire, and he couldn't believe he was saying this... was right.

"You see?" Grantaire asked quietly, "Even you cannot deny it. And I'll tell you something, Apollo, that I've never said before and you will never hear again. I do not fight in this battle for the cause, as I find it pointless and unachievable. I fight for you, because I believe in you and because you are my friend. And I have never believed in you more than I do right now. Do you know what I see in you now that I have never seen before?" Enjolras just shook his head, too shocked by his friend's speech to speak.

"I see humanity in you, Enjolras," Grantaire said seriously, "You've found yourself a weakness. Something to fight for and something to die for that will actually be affected if you don't make it out of this alive. Because, I'm telling you, Apollo, that girl is something no one here has ever encountered before. And some force out there chose you to save her. And I promise you something: if you don't spend the rest of your life with her, I will never drink again. Because she has made you into a person. And that's something no one else in the universe would ever have been able to achieve. So there must be something about you both that makes you a perfect match."

With that, the drunkard left the revolutionary leader to think about what had been said, and Enjolras found himself wondering if there was more to Grantaire than he had previously thought.

* * *

The next day, everyone behind the barricade did exactly as Enjolras said; they did not fight to make a point, or simply for the cause: they fought to win, for themselves and for the people around them. And win they did.

Gavroche and several other Les Amis de L'ABC spread the word of Enjolras' abrupt change of character; he and his apparent heartlessness were well known throughout Paris. And when the people heard of Enjolras' personality change, they rose. The people of Paris fought alongside them, the city united against the forces that fought against them. And they won.

Word reached Éponine by the next evening that the people of the barricades had won and that a new world was dawning. And when Enjolras arrived later that night, she truly believed that the world could not get any better.

The look on his face when he saw that she was awake was enough to turn her happiness into sheer joy. Before either of them even realised what was happening, Éponine has grabbed Enjolras' face with her hands and kissed him. Although slightly surprised at first, it could easily be said that Enjolras was more than pleased with the welcome Éponine had given him.

When they broke apart, tears were forming in Éponine's eyes, "When they said that you'd gone back to the barricade... I didn't think that you'd come back. That night, with the rain, and nowhere to keep the gunpowder, I thought you wouldn't have any weapons and you'd all just, just..." she sobbed and a nurse on the other side of the room glared at Enjolras for upsetting her patient. He brushed a tear from her cheek, completely clueless as to what to do in the situation he was in. In a spur of the moment decision, he wrapped his arms around her, careful to avoid her now healing wound, letting her sob into his shoulder.

"Ev-Everyone else," she choked out, "Are, are they..."

"They're all alive, "Enjolras promised her, "Or, they were when I left. Goodness knows what trouble they'll get themselves into, they had sat outside in the rain to keep the gunpowder dry inside when I got back there after bringing you here..." Éponine giggled through her tears.

"Thank you, Enjolras," she whispered into his shoulder, hugging him tighter, "You saved my life and my heart."

"It should be I thanking you, dearest Athena," he smiled, resting his chin on the top of her head, "Without you, I doubt the people of Paris would have risen to fight. You have changed me, Éponine... and because of that, we won."

And with that, the two fell into silence, happy to at last be in each other's company. Happy to at last be at peace in a world that they want to live in.


	3. The Road to Recovery

**What if Éponine was a difficult patient and only Enjolras knew how to deal with her?**

Enjolras frowned at the defiant expression the face in front of him was currently occupying.

"There really is no need to be so ridiculously stubborn," he scolded, "I am offering you a place to stay, to  _recover_ , and I won't take no for an answer."

"Tough," Éponine said, crossing her arms in an act of finality, "Because I refuse to accept anything from you, least of all any kind of charity."

The doctor had said that Éponine could go home in the next few days, provided that she had somewhere safe to stay and someone to look after her; it would be another few weeks until she was completely healed. Enjolras had immediately said that she could stay with him, but the gamine in question had other ideas.

Enjolras wasn't quite sure what kind of relationship he and Éponine now possessed; she had kissed him,  _properly_ kissed him, and since then she had stubbornly refused to talk about the matter of whether or not anything would come from it. Even  _he_  wasn't completely sure if he liked her, but he wasn't one to just not find out the answer to something.

"You kissed me," Enjolras said quietly, bringing the conversation back to the thing they had discussed (or tried to discuss, at least) so many times before.

Éponine blanched for a moment before recovering, "And that is completely irrelevant to our current conversation," Éponine said firmly.

"On the contrary," Enjolras reasoned, "It's very much within the topic of our conversation. Now, call it a bizarre assumption, but doesn't the act of one person kissing another person usually convey a feeling of attraction?"

"Enjolras!" Éponine whined, "Why must you make this so difficult for me?!"

"Because I want to help you, Athena!" he said sincerely, taking her hand in his from where he was sat at her bedside, "You were injured fighting for my cause, and-"

"Hold on one minute!" Éponine stopped him furiously, "It is not 'your' cause. It may have been you who first spoke of your dislike towards the oppression in this country, but you are not the only one wishing to fight to amend it. I was not fighting for  _your_  cause, Enjolras, I was fighting for Marius. Only now do I realise that not even love would have taken me to that barricade had I not believed in the reason for which it was constructed." Enjolras gaped for a second before sighing.

"What am I going to do with you?" he questioned, sitting on the edge of her bed and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Despite her outburst, Éponine willingly leaned into his embrace, "I really can't have you presenting well-thought out arguments that perfectly contradict mine, Athena. It ruins my image!"

"Since when have you been one to care about the image of anything but Patria?" Éponine teased, smiling.

"Since a certain stubborn young women slapped some sense into me." Enjolras replied quickly.

"Touché," Éponine muttered, still smiling, "I apologise for slapping you by the way. That really was rather rude of me."

"You  _had_  just been shot," Enjolras smirked, "I think I can forgive you." She looked up from where her head was still on his shoulder, a smile of thanks so sincere on her face that Enjolras could tell in a second that what he had just said had made the world for her. Without a second thought, he pressed his lips to hers. He quickly pulled away, but was slightly startled when Éponine pulled him back.

When they  _did_  finally break apart, she spoke quietly, looking away, "The reason I didn't like to talk about me kissing you was because I wasn't sure how I felt, or if you'd feel the same," looking back at him, a small smile formed on her face, "I've never been in a proper relationship before."

"That makes two of us," Enjolras muttered, tightening his hold around her, "I guess we'll both just have to act on instinct."

"Won't this make for an interesting relationship?" Éponine said, smiling as she leaned her head on his shoulder again.

"I never agreed to a relationship," Enjolras teased. Éponine rolled her eyes at him.

"You are a difficult man to read, Monsieur," she said.

"I'll agree on one condition," Enjolras said, turning serious. Éponine pulled out of his embrace to look at him properly.

"Anything." She promised.

"You come to live with me." Éponine's face fell into a frown for the second time that day.

"You drive a hard bargain, Apollo," she grumbled, "But I said I'd do anything. So I suppose you win this battle. But I hope you realise that I won't make it easy for you." Enjolras pulled her back, his arm snaked around her waist.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

"Éponine,  _please_ , for the sake of my sanity,  _go back to bed_!" Enjolras begged exasperatedly. Éponine hadn't been lying when she said that she'd make it difficult for him; Enjolras was beginning to think that nothing short of tying her down would keep her from leaving her bed.

"I am perfectly fine," she protested, "I do not need to go back to bed. I  _need_  to get up and do something! Do you have any idea how boring it is staring at the same four walls continuously?!"

"Probably about as boring as it is to keep having this argument with you," Enjolras grumbled as Éponine grudgingly let him lead her back to her room. He pulled the covers back for her and she sat down sulkily. Despite Éponine's initial willingness to move in with Enjolras (well, the initial willingness that had occurred  _after_  she had refused for a week), she had began to worry about her living arrangements; she said that if her father found out then he'd be in the firing line. Enjolras said that as long as she was away from her ass of a father, then he didn't care where he was.

Enjolras picked her legs up, laying them on the bed, then pulled the covers over her.

"I feel like a child," she stated grumpily.

"And I suppose that it will not be good for me to say that you are acting like one?" Enjolras looked down on her expectantly.

"It would end in my favour rather than in yours." Éponine agreed.

"Please don't get up again," Enjolras pleaded with her before making his way out the room, "I'm in the next room if you-"

"Apollo," Éponine interrupted him. He stopped and looked round, "Will you sing for me?" he grimaced and sighed, but walked back to the bed. Éponine edged over and he sat down on the bed next to her. Éponine had only been back from the hospital for three days, but she was driving Enjolras up the wall with worry within a few hours. 'Two weeks bed rest at least' the doctor had said. Éponine disagreed, insisting that a week and a half in the hospital had been more than enough.

And so, on her first night, when Éponine had said that there was very little point in her being in bed if she couldn't sleep, Enjolras had sat with her exactly as he was now, and he had sung to her until she slept. It was now becoming a daily occurrence that baffled Enjolras slightly.

"One day I will run out of songs to sing," he commented as she ducked under his arm and leant her head on his chest. He rested his arm on her shoulder, "What will you do then?"

"Request that you sing them all again," she said simply.

And so Enjolras sung, and Éponine smiled contentedly as his voice rang out through the otherwise empty apartment. At some point she must have fallen asleep, as the afternoon had transformed into evening and the sun had almost set when she woke.

She was alone in her room, the covers pulled up to her neck and she could hear a violin playing on the other side of the closed bedroom door. Her thoughts drifted to Enjolras' earlier pleas, and so got out of bed, ignoring his previous orders, and opened the door into the living room.

Enjolras stood by the window, his red jacket that they both loved so much hanging on the back of a chair. He was playing a rather happy song on the violin, and now that she was closer, she could hear him humming along to the tune he was playing.

"You play the violin?" she questioned. Unlike how many others would have, Enjolras did not jump at the sudden sound of Éponine's voice.

"I thought I told you to stay in bed, Athena," he said wearily, laying his violin and his bow on the dining table.

"You didn't answer my question, Apollo." She retorted. She approached him, kissing him lightly on the lips. He smiled; they both knew that it would only attract unwanted attention if they put on any kind of public display of affection, and neither of them, Enjolras especially, was ready for attention of that kind. Not yet anyway. Besides, they weren't even officially a couple, their relationship being one that seemed to have no set rules. But, in the sanctity of Enjolras' apartment, that wasn't a problem.

"I clearly do play the violin, dearest Éponine," he said, "And you really should be in bed."

"But I'm not," she said, smiling at him, "So I shall compromise and sit on the sofa if you make me supper." Enjolras frowned, but nodded in agreement.

"How can I say no to you, 'Ponine?" he says, stroking her face.

"You can't," she told him, kissing him again before making her way over to the sofa, "How is Marius?" she asked, "How is everyone, in fact? I feel so excluded from the outside world."

"Doctor's orders, Éponine," Enjolras said, smiling slightly, "It is only for another week and a half."

"I'm not sure 'only' can be used in that context," Éponine frowned.

"They are fine," Enjolras told her, "Rebuilding mostly, but celebrating also. Grantaire has never been so drunk."

"Why am I not surprised?" Éponine chuckled quietly.

"We're letting him off," Enjolras smiled, "We do, after all, have something to celebrate."

"Ah, yes," Éponine smiled as she spoke, "'A New France'. Is it as good as you expected, Apollo?" Enjolras turned away from the stove, leaning on the countertop beside it to face Éponine.

"Better," he says, "So much better. All down to you, my Athena."

"So you keep saying," Éponine rolled her eyes, "So everyone keeps saying in fact. Combeferre and Joly did not hesitate to tell me of your change of character at the barricade, Enjolras, and insisted that it was down to me."

"Then they would not be lying," Enjolras said quietly.

"Wouldn't they?" Éponine questioned thoughtfully, "Hmm. Interesting."

"Is it really?" he asked, "You certainly stole my soul, 'Ponine. It would not surprise me if you stole my heart alongside."

"You flatter me," Éponine shook her head, "I didn't do anything, Enjolras." He moved to join her on the sofa, and Éponine shuffled closer to him.

"You underestimate your ability to make people like you, Athena," he murmured, stroking her hair, "I'd go as far to say that it was one of your war strategies, but then I would have to test it and I am not willing to risk losing you."

She reached up and took his hand away from her hair, interlacing their fingers as the man next to her looked down.

"It is very unlike you to be so very sentimental," she said teasingly. That earned her a small smile, "You saved my life, it should be I who is never willing to lose you, not vice versa."

"So you  _are_  willing to lose me then?" he asked, though his voice was also teasing.

Éponine punched him gently, "You know that I'd rather die than lose you, Apollo," she said, rolling her eyes. She squeezed his hand, comforting him in a way, reassuring him that she was still with him and would stay that way, "Now, I am sitting on the sofa. Go and hold up your end of the bargain, monsieur. I am starving and supper won't cook itself."

So the two enjoyed a home-cooked supper together, and Enjolras sung Éponine to sleep once more. But, this time, he could not bring himself to leave her sleeping alone in her room, and so he slept next to her, her under the covers and him on top, his arm still wrapped around her waist, her head in his lap, the last words of his song still echoing in their heads as they slept soundly.


	4. And the Cat is Out of the Bag

**What if Enjolras had gotten drunk, much unlike himself, and ended up kissing Éponine?**

A fortnight later, Enjolras finally stopped being what Éponine constantly called 'overprotective', but was really just him following orders from the doctor, and agreed to let Éponine out of the safety of his ( _their_ , he reminded himself, it was  _theirs_ ) apartment.

As a way of celebration, Éponine dragged him down to the Cafe Musain, which was now completely refurbished after the little... escapade that had taken place on the barricades.

Éponine had entered to cheers from her friends, with Courfeyrac lifting her off her feet and spinning her around so fast that she could barely stand afterwards.

"I believe a celebration is in order!" Grantaire announced, "In honour of Éponine's return, I say we all get completely drunk!"

"Nothing different from normal for you, then!" Joly called, earning laughs from all of the Amis, Grantaire included.

"Perhaps it isn't," he agreed as the laughter died down, "But... it  _would_  be a first for our dear leader!" everyone turned to Enjolras, who had finally found a seat to sit down in; his face fell into a disapproving frown.

"I am most certainly  _not_  getting drunk." He said firmly.

"Enjolras, don't be such a killjoy!" Courfeyrac complained, "One little drink is not going to kill you!"

"I am not being a killjoy," Enjolras protested calmly, "I simply think that it'll be beneficial for  _everyone_  if there is at least one sober person in the room." He sat beside Éponine, his arm leaning on the back of her chair casually, as Les Amis de L'ABC tried to persuade Enjolras to join their drunken night.

"So you  _are_  being a killjoy then?" Courfeyrac repeated.

"Maybe he's scared that he'll reveal something he doesn't want anyone to know if he's drunk." Combeferre suggested. Enjolras frowned.

"I do not keep secrets," he stated. The only thing the Amis didn't know was about him and Éponine, and he hadn't  _denied_  being in a relationship with her... he just hadn't told them that they were an item.

"Then  _drink_." Grantaire placed a cup down in front of him. Enjolras glanced sideways at Éponine, who was apparently trying to control her laughter.

"Where is Marius when I need him," Enjolras muttered, reaching forward and picking up the cup, "Someone  _sane_  in amongst this crowd of lunacy..."

"Dearest Apollo has lost his saviour," Grantaire almost sung. Grimacing, Enjolras looked around at the group of men surrounding him, each of them awaiting his next move. He sighed.

"What the hell..." he muttered and downed the contents in one. A deafening cheer erupted around him and Grantaire clapped him on the back.

"Welcome to the dark side, Apollo," he laughed, "There's no going back..."

* * *

Enjolras argued that he had proven his point, but very few around him agreed. Grantaire, Combeferre and Courfeyrac made a silent pact to get Enjolras well and truly drunk.

Their plan was simple: get Enjolras to agree to 'one last drink', make him swear to drink it all, and then proceed to top it up when he wasn't looking.

And it was  _incredibly_ effective.

By the time the clock struck ten, Enjolras was laughing a lot louder at things that really weren't very funny at all. Twice he had insisted that he wasn't drunk, and twice he had stood up defiantly to argue his point and fallen to the floor. He had been repeatedly interrogated on the things he kept secret, and apart from really disliking cats, Les Amis de L'ABC had yet to get anything out of him.

Éponine was finding the whole ordeal rather hilarious, and she and Joly barely stopped laughing as they each pointed out one of Enjolras' drunken characteristics that the other had missed: the way he waved his hands around dramatically when he started arguing his point; the way he repeated 'now hang on a minute' at least twice before protesting; the way he was completely oblivious to Grantaire, Combeferre and Courfeyrac refilling his glass every five minutes.

In all truthfulness, she much preferred the calm, steadfast Enjolras with whom she could debate any topic without any love being lost as a result; the Enjolras who had carried her through the rain and nursed her back to full health; the Enjolras who was never the first to make a move in their relationship, but who was never the one to end it.

But, even she had to admit that drunk Enjolras was the most hilarious sight she had ever seen.

* * *

As the night progressed, Enjolras just became more and more hilarious. More than once Grantaire sat on his lap, something that he had only ever tried to do once before that had resulted in Enjolras threatening Grantaire with a bayonet somewhere that would not have wanted an injury (safe to say, he leapt as far away from Enjolras as he possibly could for his own sake).

But the piece de resistance was most certainly the completely unexpected event that occurred at a few minutes to midnight. Enjolras and Grantaire were standing on a table, singing completely out of tune about something undistinguishable. They finished their duet to a round of applause from the others in the room, and they bowed dramatically, Grantaire perhaps a bit too enthusiastically as he went on to dive off the table, ending up sprawled on the floor.

Enjolras on the other hand jumped off the table, approached Éponine, who was standing almost directly in the centre of the room talking to Combeferre, and kissed her passionately. Completely gobsmacked she froze for a second; Enjolras, kissing her in public whilst they were still in a not-completely-official relationship? She  _must_  have been dreaming. But after a moment of thinking that, she threw the thought out of the window, resting her hands on his shoulders and kissing him back.

Éponine didn't know how long it went on for but when the two finally broke apart, silence filled the room. Éponine blushed bright red as Enjolras grinned like an idiot.

"Okay, who bet that Enjolras was actually secretly seeing Éponine?" Courfeyrac asked. No one said anything, so he grinned, "Oh yes! That was me! Money, s'il vous plait, gentleman!" he laughed, collecting in the money from everyone who had lost the bet.

"Did I just make a huge mistake?" Enjolras asked her.

"Ask me again when you're sober, Apollo," she said, patting his cheek, before leaving him in the blissful company of a marginally less drunk Combeferre.

* * *

Enjolras woke the next morning with a headache and no memory of the night before. He groaned as he rolled out of the bed he now shared with Éponine, trudging through to the living room. Éponine was sitting on the sofa, accompanied by Combeferre and Courfeyrac. The three of them looked up as he entered.

"I, um... don't suppose any of you would like to enlighten me as to what on Earth happened last night?" Enjolras asked. The three of them started laughing hysterically.

"Apollo, you  _must_ get drunk more often!" Courfeyrac managed.

"You put on quite the show!" Combeferre agreed.

Éponine walked into their little kitchenette and poured Enjolras some water, "Here," she said, handing it to him. He smiled gratefully before pushing Courfeyrac off the sofa so that he could sit next to Éponine. He caught the suggestive glances the other two men gave him and Éponine.

"What did I do last night?" he asked carefully. The two men started laughing once more.

"Let's just say I don't think we'll be hiding our relationship any longer." Éponine whispered to him, taking his hand in hers.

"And there's no way we could just... brush it off and make everyone forget about it?"

"Not a chance," Éponine smiled. Enjolras grinned.

"In which case..." he said, leaning towards her and pressing his lips against hers, causing Combeferre and Courfeyrac to fall silent once more.

"There's definitely no going back now," she murmured, leaning her forehead against his

"I don't care," he replied, smiling.

"I feel like we're intruding," Courfeyrac muttered to Combeferre, "Do you think we could just sneak out...?"

"No." Enjolras and Éponine stated immediately.

"So... when did it happen?" Combeferre asked, smirking.

"After the barricades," Enjolras told him grudgingly, "I cannot  _believe_  you got me drunk..."

"In our defence..." Courfeyrac started protesting, then shrugging smiling triumphantly, "it wasn't hard." Enjolras rolled his eyes as Éponine chuckled.

"It really was very entertaining, Enjolras," Éponine told him, "And, I'm happy to say that you are a  _much_  better singer than Grantaire."

"Well, that's something I suppose..." Enjolras grumbled.

"Well, we'll leave you two to... well, whatever couple-y thing you're going to do today." Courfeyrac chuckled as he stood up, Combeferre copying him, "Don't forget about the meeting tonight, Enjolras. I'm sure the others would agree that we're simply  _desperate_  for another show like the one you put on last night!" Enjolras threw a sofa cushion at him, leaving both of his friends in hysterics.

"Enjolras Du Fay, revolutionary leader... who resorts to throwing  _pillows_  as revenge!" Combeferre gasped out between laughs, "Now what would  _that_  revelation do for your image?!" And the two escaped Éponine and Enjolras' apartment before anyone could say another word.

Éponine, too, was laughing hysterically, at which Enjolras rolled his eyes, "It wasn't that funny, Athena!"

"Oh, but it was," she said, her laughter reducing to a quiet giggle.

Enjolras, sensing that this conversation would only cause him more embarrassment, should it continue, decided to change the subject, "So, what 'couple-y thing' should we do? Courfeyrac may have been joking, but I think it sounds... nice. Normal.  _Sober_..."

"You've obviously never seen my parents in the same room as each other," Éponine murmured, pressing her lips to his, "And I think... you should teach me how to play the violin." Enjolras' face fell into a disbelieving grimace.

"I hope you realise that that isn't something I can do in a day," he stated, "It's taken me fourteen years to get as good as I am..."

"Christ, Enjolras!" Éponine exclaimed, "How old were you when you started?!"

"Eight," he said, frowning, "My tutor didn't think I engaged in enough activities that weren't school work... playing the violin seemed intellectually challenging enough to keep me entertained." Éponine shook her head.

"You are far too clever for your own good." She stated.

"Perhaps," he stated, "But it  _does_ , apparently, give us a 'couple-y thing' to do."

"Apparently it does," Éponine agreed, standing up and pulling Enjolras up with her by the hand, "Now teach me, please."


	5. When in Need of a Helping Hand

**What if Éponine and Enjolras found they had skills and knowledge the other didn't?**

It took Éponine only a few days to pick up the violin; Enjolras was somewhat surprised at how easy she seemed to find it. They had yet to have an argument over who's turn it was to use the violin, though Enjolras secretly expected that it would be inevitable.

This was, however, not the only thing Enjolras could teach Éponine, and there were also many things that she could teach him.

* * *

**Éponine: Knowing your limits**

It seemed so easy and obvious to the other Amis. However, many of them had been drinking for half a decade or more, whereas Enjolras, having only been drinking for a few months, was new to entire idea.

As a consequence of this, he really didn't know when to stop (and the Amis didn't know when to stop spiking his drinks).

This fact became apparent to Éponine the day after Courfeyrac's twenty-fifth birthday. All of the Amis had been very... celebratory, the night before, and Grantaire and Courfeyrac had come up with the idea of getting Enjolras drunk again (as if the first time hadn't been hilarious enough). Enjolras had learned from his previous experience with alcohol, however, and had firmly said that two drinks was his maximum.

Grantaire and Courfeyrac being the people they were, refused to accept this, and went on to refill Enjolras' glass with wine whenever they got a chance.

This did, however, result in Enjolras throwing up into a bucket in the early hours of the morning, something that wasn't exactly quiet and woke Éponine straight away.

"Enjolras?" she questioned, walking out of their bedroom and through to the kitchen area, finding Enjolras with the bucket on the counter and his head inside it. Rubbing sleep out of her eyes she frowned, "Are you alright?"

Breathing heavily, he lifted his head a fraction so that he could see her, "I hate alcohol." This made Éponine smile slightly.

"You obviously don't know your limits," she scolded him, rubbing his back gently.

"Well, whatever my limits are," he said, standing up straighter as the nausea passed, "It's considerably less than what I had last night..." Éponine chuckled.

"If it's any consolation, I believe Grantaire and Courfeyrac are partly to blame," she offered.

"Why does that not surprise me?" Enjolras muttered, moving to flop onto the sofa. Éponine filled a glass with water and handed it to him.

"Thank you, Athena," he said quietly, "And I'm sorry for waking you."

"It's fine," Éponine assured him.

"Perhaps you could teach me about these 'limits'," he murmured, "Because my apparent lack of them is making me feel awful..."

"That's called a hangover, Enjolras," Éponine laughed, "Everyone gets them, whether they know their limits or not. They just get worse if you surpass the limits you've set yourself."

"In which case, my limits are zero alcohol intake, ever." Enjolras grumbled. Éponine shook her head amusedly.

"You do realise how boring that makes you look to the others, don't you?" Éponine questioned.

"I don't care," Enjolras groaned, "I feel like someone hit me over the head with a frying pan whilst simultaneously making me eat a thousand chocolate pastries..."

"It's all about the combination," Éponine said, "I'll teach you all about it." Enjolras grimaced.

"Normally, I'd welcome the chance to learn something new, but currently, I feel like my head is going to explode." Éponine smiled, kissing his forehead.

"Maybe tomorrow," she agreed, "You should probably go back to bed."

"But the sofa's so comfortable..." Enjolras complained, pulling her into his embrace, "We could just... fall asleep right here?" Before Éponine could answer, there was a loud knock at the door. Éponine grinned as Enjolras winced, the banging causing a jolt of pain in his head.

"I think the bedroom would be more suitable," Éponine said, "Go, Enjolras. I'll get the door." Grudgingly, Enjolras released her, standing up slowly to avoid him throwing up again.

"'Ponine?" he stopped her as he went to enter their room, "Thank you."

Éponine nodded, smiling, before Enjolras returned to their bedroom and curled up under the blankets to sleep his hangover off.

*. . .*

The next day, Enjolras had (just about) recovered, and he and Éponine were walking to the Musain.

"Ah, Apollo!" Grantaire hollered as they walked up the stairs hand in hand, "How are you feeling?"

"Much better, no thanks to you," Enjolras said, his face showing that he was not amused. Courfeyrac laughed.

"Oh, come on, Enjolras," he said grinning, "Everyone has to push their limits sometimes! And seeing as yours are non-existent..."

"I'll have you know that my limits are now very much in place," Enjolras told him, "And you're welcome to push them."

"You're... you're actually allowing us to get you drunk?" Grantaire gaped.

"Call it an experiment," Enjolras shrugged; he wouldn't tell either Grantaire, or Courfeyrac, that Éponine had instructed him to put her lessons into practice.

" _It's simple," she'd told him, "Just eat, and drink little and often. Balance alcohol with water, making sure you drink an equal amount of each. Now all you need to do is test it."_

Grantaire had shoved a cup of wine in front of him before he could change his mind. The only condition Enjolras had was that Grantaire and Courfeyrac had to drink exactly the same amount as he did.

The next morning, it was evident that Éponine's lessons had been beneficial. When Enjolras woke up, he had a bit of a headache, but he was otherwise fine. He even had a full-on debate with Gavroche, which, in itself, was enough to make someone's brain explode.

It was late afternoon when Enjolras discovered how his friends were coping. The news came in the form of Combeferre, knocking on Enjolras and Éponine's door.

"I don't know what you did to Courf last night," Combeferre said smiling, "But he's suffering. I went to see him this morning, and he wasn't even out the bed. Whilst I was there, he threw up twice, and repeatedly said that his head felt like the entire French army was stampeding through it." Enjolras smirked.

"That'll teach him for getting me drunk...  _twice_. What of Grantaire? How's he holding up?"

"Better than Courf, but that probably comes from being an experienced drunkard," Combeferre rolled his eyes, "Honestly, the man has too much of a leniency for alcohol..."

"You don't need to tell me," Enjolras muttered, "But I suppose that's just Grantaire."

"Well, I'm glad you're not suffering too much, mon ami," Combeferre said on his way out, "I should probably go and check that Courf is alright..."

As he opened the door to leave, he was met by Éponine, who was just coming in from yet another meeting with Cosette, "Good afternoon, Éponine," he said, smiling.

"Oh, hello 'Ferre," Éponine replied, "What brings you here?"

"The same thing that's now making me leave," Combeferre laughed, "Courfeyrac's feeling a little bit... incapacitated after last night." Éponine smirked.

"That'll teach him for trying to get Enjolras drunk...  _twice._ " She said.

"That's exactly what he said," Combeferre told her, gesturing to Enjolras, "Well, I'd better be off. I'll see you for the meeting on Tuesday."

Éponine shut the door behind Combeferre, taking Enjolras' hand and walking them both to the sofa, "I told you it'd work."

"I never doubted you," Enjolras replied, "I'm now curious as to what else you can teach me."

"Oh, I could teach you... how to pickpocket... how to cry on demand... how to blackmail people into handing over everything in their coat..." she almost laughed at the look of shock on his face, "It's how the oppressed live, Enjolras. You should know that."

"Yes, I probably should," her muttered, wondering jokily if Éponine had merely used some kind of trick to make him love her as he did.

* * *

**Enjolras: Staying in Control**

"I. Am. Going. To. Explode. If. I. Hear. One. More. Thing. About. That. Blasted. Wedding."

Enjolras looked up as Éponine burst in, slamming the door behind her and throwing her shawl and boots to the floor.

"Good afternoon to you too," he said amusedly, "How was your day?"

"I want to destroy all weddings," Éponine ranted, "I want to destroy the very  _idea_  of weddings! I want to go up to the person who invented weddings, and hit them repeatedly with a frying pan to try and knock some sense into them! And if Cosette asks me  _one more time_  if she should go with the golden table display or the silver one, I will not be responsible for my actions." She collapsed next to Enjolras on the sofa.

"And breathe," he prompted, still slightly amused, "You're not very good at entertaining apparently mindless people, are you?"

"When mindless people achieve some common sense, I will entertain them," Éponine said grumpily, "Until then, I will rant about them behind closed doors."

"Or, apparently, murder them ruthlessly," Enjolras said smirking, "It's only a wedding, 'Ponine. In a few months, it'll all be over and done with, and you'll never have to think about what Cosette and Marius' big day will be like ever again."

"Marius is  _obviously_  nowhere  _near_  as annoying as Cosette is," Éponine said, "You're far too calm."

"Oh, believe me, Marius is anything  _but_  a calming influence when it comes to this wedding," Enjolras told her, "But there's no point getting worked up over it." Éponine gaped at him, her eyes wide.

"Nothing to... no point in...  _are you insane_?!" she shrieked, "I think I've lost half of my intelligence hearing Cosette wonder if blue will ruin her white and silver colour scheme!"

Enjolras chuckled, "It only matters if you let it get to you," he told her, "You just need to distance yourself from it all." Éponine just stared at him for a moment, before shuffling closer to him desperately, taking his hands in hers.

"Teach me," she begged, "Please. Or there won't  _be_  a wedding because the bride will have been incapacitated by her maid of honour." Enjolras rolled his eyes internally at Éponine's dramatics.

"Fine," he said, "but only if you promise not to kill Cosette. I'm not sure Marius would ever get over it, and then  _I'll_ have to deal with the consequences."

"Deal." Éponine said, hugging him gratefully.


	6. Help from an Unlikely Aide

**What if Éponine couldn't dance and the other Amis helped her learn so that she could surprise Enjolras?**

It was the next Wednesday when Éponine and Enjolras next saw the Amis. Since Enjolras' drunken confession, his and Éponine's friends had been strangely accepting of their relationship.

"You two are good together," Combeferre said quietly when Enjolras questioned this, "You're a passionate, love-deprived man who works too much, Éponine's a passionate but determined girl who needs some love. You're both equally as stubborn as the other. It's as if you were meant to be together." Being the person he was, Enjolras wasn't one to believe in fate. He did, however, accept Combeferre's explanation, and didn't question the matter any further.

The evening passed reasonably quickly and without any memorable events until about nine o'clock.

This was when Éponine found herself in quite the awkward situation. The Amis were going dancing in two week's time, which in itself was something that Éponine had never expected to hear. However, she was much more surprised when they extended the invitation to her.

"Come on, 'Ponine, it'll be fun!" Courfeyrac insisted.

"If that's what it's supposed to be, then your idea of 'fun' worries me, Courfeyrac," Enjolras muttered.

"Hush, hush, Apollo," Grantaire smirked, "We all know that you enjoy it as much as the rest of us. And I'm sure you'll much prefer it with your darling Athena alongside you."

"It may have escaped your notice, but Éponine hasn't actually said yes yet," Enjolras pointed out, "And she is well within her rights to say no." He glanced at her, his hand around her waist as they sat in the cafe, silently begging her to decline the offer. They were at what would have previously been one of Les Amis de L'ABC's regular meetings to discuss the revolution. Now, however, it was merely an excuse to socialise.

"You'll love it, 'Ponine!" Courfeyrac said.

"I'm not sure that I will actually..." she said. To the others she seemed slightly awkward, but that was not the case. She was, in fact, embarrassed; she had never been taught how to dance, because she had never needed to learn.

"Please, Éponine," Combeferre begged, "Enjolras normally only joins in for five minutes before standing around at the sidelines watching the rest of us. He needs some motivation!"

"I do not need any motivation!" Enjolras argued.

"French revolution. That is all I am saying." Jehan pitched in. Enjolras glared at him.

"Well..." Éponine looked around at the people around her, all of them waiting eagerly for her answer, silently begging her to say she'll come along, "Oh, fine! I'll come." As soon as the words had left her mouth, she realised her mistake: really, the only way this could possible end was with her making a complete fool of herself. But it was too late to take it back, and so Éponine groaned internally, leaning her head again Enjolras' shoulder, searching for comfort there. She smiled as he leaned his cheek against her head, moving his arm from her waist and taking her hand in his, interlacing their fingers.

"You could have said no," he murmured, his voice barely audible, "I wouldn't have minded."

"And what if a girl had come up to you and asked you to dance with her?" Éponine teased.

"Do you really believe I am so shallow?" he asked, looking a bit incredulous.

"Of course not," Éponine squeezed his hand, "But I'm not willing to risk it."

* * *

Éponine was, therefore, left with a dilemma: she was going dancing when she couldn't dance. It could, and would, only end in disaster.

So she tried to get out of it, making all kinds of excuses:

She said that she was coming down with something, but Joly insisted that, if that were the case, then he'd be more than happy to check her over (as long as it wasn't catching).

She said that she had forgotten about other plans she had made with Cosette on that day. Unluckily for Éponine, Cosette happened to walk in at that very moment and have no idea what Grantaire and Jehan were asking her about.

"Ah, Cosette, we hear that you have plans with Éponine next Saturday? Are you not coming with us to dance the night away with your Marius?" Jehan had asked as Cosette had entered the Cafe Musain.

"Good afternoon to you too, Monsieur Jehan," Cosette replied, smiling amusedly, "Plans with Éponine? Not that I'm aware of..."

"No, no, Cosette, you see, Éponine distinctly said that she had plans with you on Saturday evening-" Grantaire intervened.

"And I just said that I was not aware of these plans, Monsieur Grantaire." Cosette had protested.

When Grantaire and Jehan had turned around, looking confused and waiting for Éponine to explain the curious matter, her seat was vacant, and she was nowhere to be seen.

She had even told her beloved Enjolras that she just didn't want to go, at which he smiled.

"No one is forcing you to join us, Athena," he chuckled, wrapping his arms around her. She sighed, leaning into his embrace.

"I am determined to dance with you, Enjolras," she muttered into his chest. Enjolras just chuckled, shaking his head at her unwillingness to let even things she didn't want to do beat her.

* * *

This was all very well and good, but it did nothing to solve Éponine's problem. She ended up resorting to desperate measures, not only to save herself from looking a fool, but also to surprise her precious Enjolras.

And so, she asked her desperate measure the very next day to help her out.

"Combeferre," she said quietly, "Can I ask you something?" Enjolras was on the other side of the room talking to Marius about his upcoming wedding. Grantaire was already getting drunk, and the other Amis were struggling to contain their laughter at him as he spilt half of his wine down his shirt.

Combeferre was, as always, standing on the sidelines, preferring to stay out of the way as Grantaire drunk himself silly; the amount of brawls the drunkard had gotten himself into because of his obsessive drinking was uncountable.

"Of course, Mademoiselle Éponine," he smiled.

"You remember when you asked me to join you when you go dancing on Saturday night?" she asked, already starting to blush.

"I do," he confirmed, "I also remember your reluctance. Would this, by any chance, have something to do with that?"

Éponine blushed even more, "The thing is, I can't actually..." she trailed off, hoping that Combeferre would catch on so that she wouldn't have to say it.

"You can't actually... what?" he prompted. Éponine sighed.

"You see, I can't... I've never learnt to... I... can't dance." She muttered the last two words at a volume barely audible. Combeferre smiled.

"Enjolras' beloved can't dance?!" he exclaimed.

"Keep your voice down!" Éponine scowled, "I've never been taught how to! You know of my parents, you know they're not people to go out  _dancing_  whenever they feel like it! The only thing they dance around is the law, and that hardly counts!"

Combeferre chuckled, "Well, we can't have our dearest Éponine making a fool of herself now, can we?" he asked, "Meet me here at ten tomorrow morning; it's always empty. I'll teach you how to dance, or try to at least."

Éponine smiled gratefully, "Thank you, Combeferre!" she smiled at him before walking across the room to stand with Enjolras, considerably happier than she had been for the last week.

* * *

Éponine left the apartment she lived in with Enjolras the next morning, telling said revolutionary that she was going out with Cosette (this time informing Cosette of her plans to avoid any awkward conversations with Grantaire and Jehan).

She reached the cafe at ten o'clock exactly, walking up the stairs to a predictably empty room. Well, empty that is, except for Combeferre and Courfeyrac.

"What are you doing here?!" she asked the latter as he helped Combeferre push the tables and chairs to the side of the room.

"Combeferre told me about your little... issue," Courfeyrac said smirking, "I am a better dancer than he-"

"I take offense to that!" Combeferre argued.

"And so I will most probably be considerably more helpful." Courfeyrac finished, ignoring Combeferre's interruption.

"You'll also laugh at me if and when I go wrong," Éponine stated, "So thanks, but I think I'll let Combeferre be the teacher for now." Courfeyrac shrugged dismissively.

"Suit yourself, mademoiselle," he said, gesturing to Combeferre to begin his lesson.

"Mademoiselle," Combeferre held out his hand to Éponine. She took it and awaited his instructions, "Enjolras only over dances the waltz," he told her, "That's the first thing you need to know. It's his thing, and he's good at it. End of story."

"Understood," Éponine nodded.

"The waltz is danced like so," he said, "Your left hand goes on my right shoulder, and my left goes on your waist. Then we hold hands like this," he rearranged the hold he had on her hand so that their arms were in the right position, "And voila. Now the dancing part."

Courfeyrac chuckled quietly behind Éponine. She glanced round and glared him into silence. Combeferre nodded gratefully and then continued.

"The waltz is a three beat dance. On the first beat, you step back with your right foot, and I step forward with my left," Éponine did as he said.  _So far, so good,_  she thought to herself, "And then you step back a bit and to your left with the other foot, and bring your right foot to your left." Éponine completed the move without causing herself of Combeferre any injury; something she had not expected to happen.

"Then, for the next part, we switch; you step forward on your left foot, and then forward and to the right slightly with your right. Then you bring your left foot to your right. After that, you repeat that all over again, but after turning a quarter clockwise. Understand?"

"I think so," Éponine nodded. Combeferre grinned.

"Good," he said, "Now, shall we try it to a beat?" Éponine nodded again, frowning as she remembered what she had to do.

As Combeferre counted from one to three over and over, Éponine moved in the steps reasonably easily, if a bit hesitantly. She was still getting the hang of it after all, so when Combeferre suggested that they went a little faster, she looked at him as if he was joking.

"You're doing fine!" Combeferre insisted, "But Enjolras does  _not_  dance this slowly."

"I am a beginner!" Éponine protested, "Surely it isn't wise to push my limits?!"

"Well, you  _are_  a beginner," Courfeyrac commented from the sidelines, "We do not yet know your limits, Ép." Éponine glared at him once more, but turned her attention back to the dance as Combeferre sped up.

Éponine had been given the nickname 'Athena' for a reason; beneath her witty humour and headstrong personality, she really was quite wise. And she had been right to think that making her dance any faster than she had been would not end well, which turned out to be quite unfortunate for Combeferre's foot.

"I'm so sorry, 'Ferre!" she said as Combeferre hopped to a chair at the side of the room. Courfeyrac was wetting himself with laughter, not even bothering to offer his friend any sympathy.

"Don't worry, Éponine," Combeferre laughed, for he too found it quite amusing, "It is lucky that you are so petite, mademoiselle. Although, I do believe that that is enough for today."

"Agreed," Éponine said, looking guilty.

"Honestly, Éponine, I'm fine," Combeferre laughed, "And you did well."

"I still can't dance," she argued, "Not well enough to not make a fool of myself on Saturday, anyway..."

"You can't expect to learn it to perfection in a single day, 'Ponine," Courfeyrac chipped in.

Combeferre raised his eyebrows, "I believe, Courfeyrac, that that is the most helpful and sensible thing you have said since we arrived!"

Éponine smiled slightly, "I suppose not," she shrugged, "Can we meet again tomorrow? Try it again?"

"Try what again?" another voice joined them. They three of them turned around to see Grantaire and Marius climbing the stairs.

"Éponine, I'm sure Cosette said the two of you were going out together today?" Marius frowned. Éponine groaned.

"I suppose that's my cover blown," she grumbled, "I thought you said this place would be empty?!" she accused Combeferre.

"Well, this may shock you to hear, Éponine, but I cannot predict the future," Combeferre said sarcastically.

"I hope you know that this both looks and sounds like your conspiring again us all," Grantaire noted, apparently finding it rather funny.

"It seems that our dear 'Ponine can't dance," Courfeyrac told the two men, as Éponine collapsed into a chair, blushing ashamedly. This Grantaire really did find funny and he burst out laughing.

"Apollo's perfect Athena?!" he chuckled hysterically, "Not able to dance?! Of all the bizarre things..."

"Grantaire, please keep your hysterics silent," Éponine begged, "I'm embarrassed enough without your mindless chortling!" Grantaire didn't stop laughing, but did reduce it slightly.

"Combeferre and I were teaching her how to dance," Courfeyrac explained, "But 'Ferre's foot came off worse." Even Marius smiled slightly at this.

"Is that why you've been making so many ridiculous excuses as to why you couldn't come dancing with us?" he asked of Éponine.

"Quite possibly," she said, her voice muffled sure to the fact that her face was in her hands.

"Perhaps I could help?" Marius offered, "Besides, you will have to dance at the wedding, 'Ponine. Even if you had gotten out of it this time, you have to learn."

"I was planning to just stand at the side and watch, actually..." she murmured.

"And I would never have allowed it," Marius insisted, smiling, "So, we are meeting here tomorrow, yes?"

"At ten," Combeferre confirmed, "I shall make a note to line my shoes with something that Éponine can't break through." He continued teasingly. Éponine lifted her head to glare at him, which just made him grin even more.

* * *

A defeated Éponine made her way back home slowly, annoyed at herself for finding the whole dancing business so difficult. She walked in to find Enjolras sitting on the sofa, reading a book about revolution.

"You experienced the revolution first-hand," she told him, smiling slightly, "Why do you feel the need to read about it?"

"It is a topic I enjoy," he said, closing the book and placing it on the floor, "You're home early. I thought we were meeting for lunch?"

"Hmm," Éponine shrugged, "It was a bit boring really. Cosette just spoke of the wedding and all the things she had planned for it." It wasn't technically a lie; she had had that very conversation with Cosette the night before, and she had indeed been rather bored.

She slipped off her boots by the door before walking into the living room area of their apartment. Enjolras patted the seat next to him, and she sat down sideways, bringing her feet up onto the sofa and resting her back on Enjolras' shoulder. He placed his arm around the front of her body, and she cherished the moment; yes, Combeferre was a very good dancer and she had felt safe in his embrace, but nothing would compare to her Apollo.

And that only made her determination to dance with him properly even stronger.

"Do you think we'll ever get married?" she asked him. Enjolras didn't know what to say for a moment.

"I'm not sure," he said, "Possibly. I've been faced with that question a few times, due to my parents' insistence that I have a suitable wife, but I never felt with them what I feel with you."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Éponine said teasingly.

"It was meant as one," he assured her, "What caused you to ask that question, if I might ask?"

Éponine sighed, "Thinking of Marius and Cosette, and how they are getting married after such a short time of knowing each other. Their relationship just seems so... perfect." Enjolras frowned slightly.

"I believe our relationship is more perfect," he told her without any reservations, "Marius and Cosette are together because they both look for the same thing in a possible partner: prettiness and the ability to listen to their mindless babbling," this earned him a giggle from Éponine and he smiled, "Our relationship is much better. It is one based on respect, intelligence and most importantly, true affection. Because, the thing is, Éponine, I do love you. And I believe that the quality of a relationship much improves with time, don't you?"

Éponine turned to face him, a smile on her face, "You are very good at saying the right things, monsieur." She told him. He smiled.

"And all the better because it's true," he agreed.

"I love you, Enjolras." She told him simply, kissing him lightly on the lips. He didn't reply, simply kissing her again, because she already knew that he loved her too.

* * *

Over the next few days, Marius, Combeferre and Courfeyrac tried their hardest to help Éponine to learn how to dance to Enjolras' standards. But, after three days, there had been little progress and Éponine was beginning to get frustrated.

"It should not be this hard!" she complained on Thursday morning.

"'Ponine, considering you'd never danced before in your life before Monday morning, I'd say you are doing incredibly well." Combeferre told her. She just sighed angrily.

"Let's try again," Courfeyrac suggested, "With me this time." Much to the disapproval of Éponine and Combeferre, Courfeyrac was the best dancer of the three Amis who had offered to help Éponine. She had managed to go faster with him than she had with either Marius or Combeferre, and she had only stepped on his foot twice. But, apparently, it still wasn't fast enough for her to be able to keep up with Enjolras.

"Why don't you just tell Apollo that you can't dance?!" Grantaire asked her incredulously, "Surely that would save you a lot of time, effort and embarrassment?"

"I want to surprise him!" Éponine explained, "And I  _want_  to dance with him. And if I'm doing it, then I'm going to do it right." And so the chaos continued.

Éponine and Grantaire were the last to leave on Thursday morning.

"Athena," Grantaire called her back as she went to follow Marius down the stairs.

"Are you going to laugh at me again?" she questioned suspiciously.

"Come here," he said, holding his hand out to her. She was apprehensive, but approached him. He picked up her hand and placed it on his shoulder, and put his hand on her waist.

"What  _are_  you doing?" she questioned.

"You know  _how_  to dance, don't you?" he asked.

"I do..." Éponine agreed, "But what-"

"Good," he interrupted her, "Now, let me lead."

"I don't see how this is going to help." Éponine said sceptically.

"You've been focusing on getting the steps right too much," Grantaire told her, "The main aspect of the waltz is that the male leads. So just follow. You know the steps well enough by now. Stop concentrating, and dance."

She frowned doubtfully, but had little time to dwell on it, as Grantaire started dancing, pulling her along with him. Doing as he had told her to, Éponine found that she could move a lot faster now that she had placed her trust in Grantaire to guide her. They got faster and faster until Éponine was slightly dizzy, and when they finally stopped, she was laughing happily.

She threw her arms around Grantaire's neck in a grateful hug, "Thank you, Grantaire!" she squealed, still giggling.

"My pleasure," he said, slightly aghast at her unexpected outburst.

"I won't forget this," she said sincerely, "I owe you."

"Yes, you do," he agreed, laughing. He smiled and rolled his eyes as Éponine dashed down the stairs, a smile on her face. "Women..." he muttered, laughing to himself as he followed Éponine's lead and left the cafe.

* * *

When Saturday night finally arrived, Éponine was both excited and nervous. She wore a blue dress that Cosette had given to her months ago, a particular favourite of hers that she knew Enjolras also loved.

Enjolras looked completely different to his regular self; he wore a black jacket with a grey waistcoat and a pale blue scarf that perfectly complimented his eyes. When Éponine came out of their bedroom, the two of them just stood staring at each other.

"You look..." she stuttered, "Just... wow."

"I could say the same about you, Athena," he said, shaking his head in amazement, "Although I'm starting to think that 'Aphrodite' may be a better nickname..." Éponine giggled quietly. Enjolras held out his arm to her, "Shall we?" she nodded, taking his arm.

They walked the short distance to the large hall around the corner where the dance would take place. Most of the others were already there, waiting outside for everyone else to arrive.

"'Ponine!" Jehan called as the approached, "I see your plans for tonight have been postponed?"

"Yes, thank you, Jehan," Éponine said wearily; no doubt Grantaire or Courfeyrac had told him of the lessons she had been having. Enjolras breathed a laugh next to her and she nudged him playfully with her elbow.

When everyone had arrived, they went in, the place already busy with people dancing in the centre of the room. Others were arranged around tables at the edge, and Grantaire immediately headed in the direction of the bar. The rest of the Amis found a large circular table and sat around it.

Éponine had Enjolras on her left and Cosette on her right, and the group sat chatting for a while. Then Courfeyrac spotted a girl and had disappeared from the table before anyone could say 'Here he goes again'. In pairs or threes, the Amis left the table, approaching random girls who could be married for all they knew. But they didn't seem to care, and neither did the people they were approaching.

They had been in the hall for almost an hour before Enjolras asked her if she wanted to dance.

"Would you care to dance, mademoiselle?" he said, standing up and offering her his hand.

"Why, monsieur, I would indeed." She smiled, letting him help her up.

As he lead her over to the dance floor, Éponine was surprised by her lack of nerves; perhaps it was the fact that she had confidence in herself, now that she had proved that she could dance with Grantaire. Éponine preferred to think that it was the comforting feeling of Enjolras' hand on her waist as the music started up and she once again reminded herself to let Enjolras lead.

As the song ended, Éponine was smiling madly, and Enjolras was looking at her with an expression of undeniable love. Still holding on to his reluctance to display too much affection in public, Enjolras squeezed her hand as they walked back to the table, hoping to convey his love through that. Éponine smiled at him as they retook their seats.

"That was incredible," he murmured to her, "I... am ridiculously impressed." Éponine nodded her thanks, sipping her wine; she feared that if she even tried to talk right now she would simply babble with happiness.

Éponine caught Grantaire's eye across the table, and he gave her a sly wink, which made her smile even more; the cynic would never understand how grateful she truly was.

She literally danced the night away with her beloved, Enjolras commenting more than once on her dancing.

"Where did you learn to dance?" he asked her after a particularly fast piece of music ended and they made their way back towards the table.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she laughed. Enjolras seemed happy enough with that answer, for which Éponine was grateful; goodness knows how he would have reacted had she told him that  _Grantaire_ had taught her how to dance.

Before they knew it, the band was packing up and they were on their way home.

"I had a wonderful evening," Éponine told him as they walked down a side street.

"As did I," he smiled, "You know, I was beginning to think that you didn't want to go tonight because you couldn't dance." Éponine didn't react for a second.

"I hope tonight put your mind at rest on that matter," she said hastily to cover her pause.

"It did indeed," he said, "You were certainly the best dancing partner that I have ever had."

"And you were mine," she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Perhaps you could give some of the Amis a lesson," Enjolras suggested jokily.

"Somehow, I don't think that would work," Éponine laughed. But what she definitely _wasn't_  going to tell him was that she happened to know from experience. That, after all, would blow her cover entirely.


	7. The Letter of Truth

**What if Enjolras received an official letter and Éponine and the other Amis had to fight their battle with a different approach?**

Éponine was suitably agitated when she returned to the apartment she and Enjolras shared from yet another meeting with Cosette regarding her blasted wedding. She swore that if she had to so much as look at another bridal gown or bridesmaid dress, she might just go on a killing spree.

In all fairness, she would have preferred to stay at home with Enjolras; he had taught her a lot on the violin already, and she really did enjoy the time she spent with him. It made a change from their usual debates and... well, the other 'couple-y' things the two did together.

As she walked in to the apartment, she found Enjolras in a similar state. He sat at the dining table, parchment covering the surface, writing furiously.

"What  _are_  you doing?" she asked. As always, Enjolras didn't jump at her sudden interruption, but continued writing.

"I got a letter," he said, "From someone in the government." Éponine smiled.

"And so you're writing on as many pieces of parchment as possible?" she asked amusedly.

"I'm replying in an angry but controlled manner," he corrected her, "But I can't get the wording right. I'm just making myself seem... well, angry."

"I don't know if I wish to know what the government has done to infuriate the ever stoic Apollo," Éponine chuckled. He help up a letter with his left hand silently, still writing. Éponine raised her eyebrows but walked forward to take it.

_Monsieur Enjolras,_

_Myself and others in the French government would like to pass on our congratulations for the success of your rebellion in June; many would say we are simply encouraging inappropriate behaviour in the state, but we have ruled that you had a point in regards to the people of France._

_As a result of this, we would like to invite you and your fellow revolutionaries to discuss with us the changes you wish to make in the state. If you could reply with a suitable date and time for you and your comrades, we will arrange a location._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Bastien Moreau, government official_

She frowned, "And this has annoyed you because..." she questioned.

"'Discuss with us the changes you wish to make in the state'." Was all Enjolras said.

Éponine walked to him and rested a hand on his shoulder, "Apollo." She said quietly, knowing that he occasionally forgot that what made perfect sense to him did not necessarily make sense to others. He stopped writing and looked up at her. His expression was priceless: his eyes were bright with anger and passion, his mouth set in a determined line. This was how he had been when she had fallen from him; in the month and a half since the rebellion, he had seemed... unlike himself. Yes, he was more relaxed and less 'snappy', as Grantaire had put it, which for many of the Amis was a welcome change. But he also seemed lost without his cause, without something to fight for.

"The barricades... the Amis... we did not fight,  _you_  did not come to the brink of death, merely for us to 'discuss changes in the state'." He explained, his voice calm and yet so full of love and passion, "I swore to fight for you, to come out alive for  _you_... I did  _not_  put so many lives on the line for the sake of discussion."

Éponine smiled, "And you are writing a strongly worded letter to do what, exactly?"

"To tell them where they can shove their discussions," he smirked, returning to his writing.

"Dear lord..." Éponine muttered, grimacing, "Just try not to get yourself arrested for... I don't know, treason?!"

"I'll be sure to be polite," Enjolras smiled.

They were interrupted by someone knocking on (or perhaps 'breaking down') the door. Éponine frowned before going to open it, finding Gavroche standing outside grinning madly.

"Gavroche?" Éponine looked confused, "I thought you were staying with Courfeyrac...?"

"Courf's got a  _girl_  in his flat!" Gavroche said disgustedly, "An actual girl! I took one look at her and got out as fast as I could!"

"And came... here?" Éponine questioned, "Whilst Enjolras is working? Do you fear for your life, brother?!" Gavroche shrugged, sitting on the sofa.

"What's he writing?"

"A strongly worded letter to the government." Enjolras and Éponine replied simultaneously.

"Why?" Gavroche asked, making a face at how his sister and her boyfriend (not that Enjolras would ever let anyone call him that) replied at the same time; it was such a... couple-y thing to do, after all.

"They sent him a letter." Éponine told him, rolling her eyes, "And he feels passionately about it."

"Doesn't he feel passionately about everything?" Gavroche questioned.

"One day you will learn, little Gavroche, that it is the passionate people in life who achieve and the boring people who don't." Enjolras said, once again multitasking to talk whilst he wrote.

"Ignore him, he's grumpy." Éponine told her little brother. For a while they sat in silence, only the sound of the scratching on parchment as Enjolras conducted his letter. Suddenly the writing stopped, and Éponine and Gavroche looked around to see Enjolras sigh and push the parchment away, picking up a fresh piece.

Gavroche got up from the sofa and approached the table, picking up one of Enjolras' failed attempts at contacting the government. Possibly reading a few words that were not at all suitable for a child of his age to read and skipping over a few that he didn't understand, he frowned at Enjolras.

"You're going about this all wrong," Gavroche told him.

"Am I indeed?" Enjolras said wearily, although his amusement at Gavroche's comment still showed through, "And I suppose you could do better?"

"'Course I could!" Gavroche grinned, "You're doing it wrong by writing it from you anyway! We were all fighting there with you! We all want a better France! It was never just you!" Enjolras looked at him thoughtfully.

"You know, Gavroche," he leaned back in his chair, "You may just be onto something..."

* * *

That conversation was what brought all of the Amis to the Cafe Musain that evening for their first proper meeting since the revolution.

Everyone was gathered, talking loudly until Enjolras took his place on the podium. Enjolras was surprised at how at home he felt standing there, and how everyone fell silent the second his presence was recognised. Before he began he glanced over to Éponine, who was smiling at him both proudly and encouragingly. He returned her smile (an action not missed by the other Amis) and started his speech.

"Les Amis de L'ABC," he started, projecting his voice out to the room of people, "That is who we are by name. By nature, we are the people who stood up and started a rebellion against an unfair state for a better France. They said that we would never succeed, that we were walking freely into our deaths. How wrong they were, my friends. For we did not just escape. We rose, we fought with courage and pride, and we won. But now, the government are once again trying to disregard our cause.

"This morning I received a letter, from Monsieur Moreau, an official in the French government. He asked us to 'discuss' with them the 'changes we wish to make to the state'. Well, I say no. We did not suffer through the fighting at our barricades to merely 'discuss' our country's future. We did not put our lives on the line to 'discuss changes'. We stood up to change our country, not to put the possibility of change in the hands of a government who has harmed our France too many times already." He was met by cheers led by the Amis, all of whom disgusted and empowered by the government's lack of action.

"What do we do Enjolras?"

"Will we fight them again?"

"Are we building another barricade?"

Enjolras held up a hand to stop the flow of questions that was thrown at him. "We will not enter into another physical fight. That is the last resort, and if need be we will turn to it, but  _only_  if we have to. What we _will_  do... will be explained by Gavroche." He gestured for the young boy to take centre stage as a flurry of murmurs swept the room. Gavroche had made Enjolras promise that he could tell the Amis his idea; Enjolras had agreed immediately, for it would probably sound better coming from Gavroche anyway. There was something about a child who had suffered so much in life that made people believe in their ideas so much more than had it come from a student.

And so Gavroche coughed loudly to get everyone's attention and explained his ideas with as much, if not more, extravagance than he had when explaining it to Enjolras and Éponine earlier that day.

Everyone looked up at him, mouths gaping as the boy came out with the perfect solution to make the government realise that this was a nationwide event. Éponine looked proudly up at her brother as he spoke, everyone completely captivated by his words. Enjolras smirked slightly next to her.

"You taught him well," he murmured.

"I think he's learnt most of what he's talking about from you, Apollo," Éponine chuckled, "Just listen to him, ranting on up there about how to overthrow the government! I don't know whether to be proud that you've made him passionate about something, or annoyed that you've attracted him to such a dangerous cause!"

"Only the passionate achieve in life, 'Ponine," Enjolras said quietly as an answer to her problem.

The people around them erupted in cheers, neither of them having realised that Gavroche had finished talking. Courfeyrac (now unsurprisingly  _without_  a girl) and Combeferre hoisted Gavroche onto their shoulders as people chanted his name.

Enjolras watched on, smiling slightly. "Not offended that little Gavroche has stolen your limelight, Apollo?" a still slightly sober Grantaire questioned from the next table.

"This one is all on Gavroche," Enjolras said, holding his hands up as a kind of surrender, "I did nothing to inspire his idea other than go about things the wrong way apparently."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Grantaire laughed heartily as Gavroche basked in the praise from his fellow Amis.

* * *

And so, the next week, Monsieur Bastien Moreau received a letter, his name and address written in Enjolras' penmanship on the front of the envelope. Happy to have received an answer from the blasted revolutionaries so early, he tore it open eagerly, to find something he did not expect to see.

_Dear Monsieur Moreau,_

_I was going to address this letter to you myself, containing my thoughts and suggestions for the days, weeks, months and years ahead of France. Then, one of my fellow revolutionaries enlightened me of the fact that it is not just I who should be replying to your letter. So, I followed the lead of the revolutionary who enlightened me, letting him take charge. And this is the result:_

_I am Enjolras, leader of Les Amis de L'ABC, revolutionary; I fight for a better France._

I am Combeferre, revolutionary; I fight alongside Enjolras, for a better France.

I am Courfeyrac, revolutionary; I fight for a better France and a better future.

I am Grantaire, revolutionary; I fight with Enjolras because it is better to stand by a friend than to stand aside and watch him die.

I am Éponine, revolutionary; I fight for friends, family and for love. I almost died trying.

I am Feuilly, revolutionary; I fight because I know what a revolution can do and I believe in the cause.

I am Joly, revolutionary; I fight alongside my friends for a better state and to achieve a cause I believe in.

I am Marius, revolutionary; I fight first for my friends, second for the cause, and third for the love of my life.

And I am Gavroche, boy on the street turned revolutionary; this was all my idea, because we're not just fighting for France. We're fighting to help people. And I reckon you forgot that.

_The people will not be saved by 'discussing', Monsieur Moreau. They will be saved by a government who does not deal with real life democratically. They will be saved by action._

_Along with this letter, you will find three further pages, on which the people of France will tell you themselves why they believe in the cause. On the final page, is our list of suggestions for you and your fellow government officials. Feels free to 'discuss' with them how you will go about putting these suggestions in place. Perhaps even consult his majesty the King of France. This seems to be the sort of thing he should concern himself with._

_Vive la France,_

_The Revolutionaries_

* * *

Enjolras smiled slightly as he signed the letter off; it didn't seem right, ending it 'Yours sincerely, Enjolras Du Fay'. It wasn't, after all, from him personally. It was from the oppressed in France and those fighting for them.

'The Revolutionaries' seemed much for fitting. And 'Vive la France'... well, he found that quite self-explanatory. 'Long Live France'. Yes, that was, ultimately, what they were fighting for. A France that would last through the ages. A France that would be remembered.

"Finished?" he smiled as Éponine came up behind him.

"Finished," he replied as she sat down opposite him, "Hopefully it will inflict  _some_  kind of sense on those blasted officials..."

"We'll find a way if it doesn't," Éponine assured him, "I think the barricades made everyone even more dedicated, if that's even possible. You should have seen the look on Jehan's face after the meeting the other day! He was furious that the government hadn't done anything!" Enjolras smiled.

"I'm glad everyone is taking it seriously," he confessed, "I feared that, after the barricades, everyone would just think that our fight was over. We obviously still have a long way to go..."

"We'll do it," Éponine said firmly, "Like you said; I didn't come to the brink of death simply for the barricades to have ended a fight that has barely begun. We are lucky, Enjolras... we have a purpose in life, a beneficial purpose; something that will help everyone. There are few people who get that chance."

"We're not many people." Enjolras said, taking her hand in his.

Éponine smiled and Enjolras felt truly happy seeing the determination in her eyes. True, the fight was far from over. But he, Éponine and all of the Amis were certainly not your average activist group. They were making a difference, first with the oppressed and next with the government. They would achieve their goal if it killed them, which it very nearly had. But, for Enjolras, this was just further proof that they had a reason to survive.

France needed them. And they were going to do everything in their power to make sure that their cause was accomplished.


	8. Can't Let it Slide

**What if someone insulted Enjolras and Éponine's relationship and Enjolras wouldn't take it?**

"Marius, please,  _please_  stop talking about your wedding!" Courfeyrac begged, "It's so boring! Yes, we get it: you found the love of your life, you want to commit yourself to her, you're getting married... but this must be the eight-hundredth time you've spoken about it!" Marius looked slightly hurt.

"Well, I'm sorry if it  _bothers_  you, Courfeyrac, but it is a rather important event in my life!" Marius said indignantly.

"Are you sure it's only one event? The way you keep mentioning it... I'd have thought it was a hundred!" Enjolras said smirking. Marius frowned angrily; they had been in the Musain for a few hours by this time, giving both Marius and Enjolras plenty of time to get a bit too much alcohol in their systems.

"Well at least Cosette and I  _know_  what our relationship entails," Marius growled, "You wouldn't know if your relationship was going in the right direction if it slapped you in the face!" Enjolras stood from his chairs, moving to face Marius off.

"Something you want to say, Pontmercy?" he questioned, his voice low.

"Maybe there is!" Marius retorted.

"Alright, gentlemen, let's not get ourselves worked up..." Combeferre said, ever the sensible one in the group.

"No, no," Enjolras held his hand up to stop Combeferre as he moved to intervene, "I want to hear this. Something is  _obviously_  bothering Marius."

"Well, have you ever wondered why you and Éponine are together, Enjolras?" Marius questioned, "It's not like you two have a lot in common. You're a rich boy from a rich, loving family. She's a girl with a bastard for a father and ten years on the streets. To be honest, I don't even know how you got her! All you've done so far is drag her into a cause that almost got her killed!"

"No, Marius,  _you_  almost killed her!" Enjolras argued back, his voice raising, "She went to the barricades so that  _you_  wouldn't get hurt. She got hurt taking a bullet for  _you_. And all you did was toss her to the side for your precious Cosette!"

"Don't bring Cosette into this!" Marius said angrily.

"This whole thing is about you and Cosette!" Enjolras said frustratedly, "If you would just stop for a moment and consider that there are  _other things_  in life than your little lark-"

"Well, at least Cosette doesn't follow me around like a lost puppy!" Marius' face was red and his voice was borderline shouting, "That's all Éponine ever did! I'm glad she got with you, you know that? It's got her off my back!"

"Marius, I'm going to give you one chance to take that back," Enjolras said, his voice lowering again and his face was deadly serious, "You know full well that you took Éponine for granted and you have the nerve to criticise her for liking you?! This is your only warning; apologise, or I will hit you."

And then Marius did something that made Enjolras the angriest he had ever been; he laughed.

"Mon Dieu, Enjolras!" he said, laughing with his words, "You know, she doesn't love you. Not really. It's not easy enough to simply stop liking one person and start liking another, for Éponine to just go from me to you. No, I was her first love. That will never change."

Courfeyrac barely caught Enjolras' fist before it connected with Marius' face, "Alright, Apollo. I think you've had quite enough to drink tonight. We should get you home."

"Not before I knock some sense into Monsieur 'I'm so pretty and everyone loves me' over here!" Enjolras growled, "Because that's all your relationship is with Cosette, Marius! You don't love each other, you love the fact that you're both  _pretty_. Your relationship is so  _shallow_  that neither of you has even noticed that it's just  _too_  perfect!"

Marius practically threw himself at Enjolras and it took Combeferre  _and_  Joly to hold him back, with Grantaire watching amusedly from the sidelines.

"Take. That. Back." Marius snarled.

"Only if you take back what you said about Éponine!" Enjolras retorted, struggling against Courfeyrac (luckily for the latter, drunk Enjolras was less coordinated than sober Enjolras).

"Come on, Enjolras," Courfeyrac said, dragging his friend towards the door, "You need to go home."

"Not until he apologises!" the revolutionary leader shouted as Combeferre left Marius to Joly and followed his other two friends out.

"Enjolras, you shouldn't pay any mind to Marius' words," Combeferre said as Courfeyrac pushed Enjolras out the door, "We all know that he doesn't give any thought to what he says when he's drunk. Just ignore him!"

"Oh, that is definitely not happening," Enjolras replied angrily, "No one insults my relationship and they  _definitely_  don't insult Éponine. Marius is going to get what's coming to him if it kills me."

"Oh, so what are you going to do?!" Courfeyrac asked exasperatedly, "Go home, grab your bayonet and kill him?!"

"That's  _exactly_  what I'm going to do!" Enjolras agreed, setting off in the wrong direction.

"Well done!" Combeferre said sarcastically, "Please tell me you hid his weapons before we left."

"Of course I did," Courfeyrac scoffed, "I'm not a  _complete_  idiot. Believe it or not, I know Enjolras as well as you do; I knew that there was a possibility of something like this happening."

"Yes, well," Combeferre huffed, "Let's hope he's forgotten that he wants to kill Mairus by the time he finds his way back to his flat..."

* * *

"Enjolras, you don't know what you're doing!" Courfeyrac shouted after Enjolras, "You're drunk! Your judgement is non-existent!"

"I warned him Courfeyrac! I told him that if he wanted to get physical, then I would oblige. Now  _where are my weapons?!_ "

Éponine groaned as she was woken up at a stupid time of night. She could hear Enjolras' voice yelling angrily as he stomped down the corridor to their apartment.

Getting up, she grabbed a shawl and opened the bedroom door just as the front door of the apartment was flung open and a very angry looking Enjolras stormed in.

"So... you had a good evening then?" she questioned sarcastically as Enjolras started looking for something. Courfeyrac and Combeferre followed them in, both looking a bit peeved, "What's he looking for?" she asked them.

"A weapon," Combeferre told her, "Of any kind, apparently. He...  _may_  have gotten a little bit drunk again... and then got into a fight with Marius..."

"Who was responsible this time?" she asked, looking between the two expectantly.

"Ah, yes, that's um... that was my fault... sorry," Courfeyrac said awkwardly.

" _Where are they?!_ " Enjolras yelling, slamming a cupboard door.

"I'm not telling you until you agree not to go after him intending to murder him." Courfeyrac said calmly. Apparently the steadiness of Courfeyrac's tone only infuriated Enjolras further, as he stormed over to him with a murderous look on his face.

"You tell me  _right now_  or I will... kill you when I find my weapons!"

"Good luck with that!" Courfeyrac said sarcastically, "Now go to bed, you idiot; you're worse than Grantaire when you're drunk..."

"I refuse to go to bed until you give me back my weapons." Enjolras said stubbornly, crossing his arms. Combeferre rolled his eyes.

"For the love of sanity, Enjolras!" he exclaimed, "It wasn't even a worthwhile argument!"

"THAT is not true!" Enjolras said angrily, "And beside... he started it!"

"Well, now you're not only  _acting_ like a child, you're  _sounding_  like one too!" Courfeyrac said, "Feel free to come back into the real world at any time you like, dear leader!"

"He insulted my relationship with Éponine!" Enjolras growled, "I would never let that slide, even if I was sober!"

"Yes, but he was drunk, Enjolras!" Combeferre insisted, "You know as well as anyone that Marius never thinks about what he says when he's drunk!"

"And you  _did_  insult his relationship with Cosette," Courfeyrac pointed out.

"In retaliation!" Enjolras said sulkily, "I was merely getting my own back!"

Éponine coughed loudly to get their attention. The three looked at her, all looking slightly guilty. "Three things," she said, "Number one: please shut the door, or we'll annoy the neighbours. Number two: Enjolras, go to bed. You can murder Marius in the morning if you still feel like it." Enjolras was about to argue, but she fixed him with a glare that had only ever been used on Gavroche before, so he sighed, threw angry looks at Courfeyrac and Combeferre, before trudging towards the bedroom. Éponine stopped him at the door, kissing him before he entered. He smiled.

"That fight was worth it..." he murmured to her, "And I definitely would have won if they hadn't intervened." Éponine smirked at him, shoving him into the room. She pulled the door shut behind him before addressing the two Amis in the doorway.

"Care to explain?" she questioned, "Properly, this time. Not in snippets that I really don't understand."

Which brought them to the living area, Éponine and Combeferre sitting on the sofa and Courfeyrac on a chair that he had brought over from the dining table.

"We were in the Musain, and Courf thought it would be a good idea to get Enjolras drunk again," Combeferre started.

"In my defence," Courfeyrac butted in, "It wasn't nearly as difficult as it was last time."

"I'm not quite sure that that works in your defence," Combeferre muttered, "But anyway, we got talking about Marius and Cosette's wedding-"

"I'm getting a bit annoyed with their bloody wedding," Éponine muttered, "It's all I ever hear about!"

"Welcome to our world..." Courfeyrac muttered.

"You remember that part where you said to explain it properly and not in snippets? That's a bit difficult when I keep getting interrupted." Combeferre said amusedly.

"Sorry," Éponine said, gesturing for him to continue.

When Combeferre finished telling Éponine about the first part of the argument, Éponine rolled her eyes, "Enjolras couldn't just ignore him?"

"Come on, 'Ponine, this is Enjolras we're talking about!" Courfeyrac pointed out, "The mighty Apollo! Like he'd ever let anyone insult him or his Athena..."

"Unfortunately for all of us, Marius didn't stop there..." Combeferre interrupted the two and got back to his story, "He started saying about how he was glad that Enjolras was with you so that you'd get off of his back, but that you'd never really love Enjolras anyway because it was always Marius you were interested in..."

Éponine winced, "Okay... I think I can forgive him for this one...  _Marius_  on the other hand..."

"Don't worry, I don't think it's very likely that Enjolras is just going to let this one go," Courfeyrac murmured.

"Best to keep his weapons hidden until he's forgotten about it then," Éponine frowned.

"That won't be a problem," Courfeyrac grinned, "In fact, it'll be my pleasure..." Éponine laughed.

"Well, thanks for bringing him home," she said, "And thank you for not letting him kill Marius, as much as he may have deserved it. I'll be sure to give him a piece of my mind next time I see him..."

"Enjolras  _did_  say that Marius was a love-blind sod who only has respect for people as pretty as him," Combeferre laughed, "But what Marius said was worse, so I don't blame you."

"I've never seen Enjolras that angry," Courfeyrac commented quietly, rising from his chair to leave, "Not even about the revolution. Not even about  _Grantaire_  when he's been intolerably intoxicated... you should feel honoured 'Ponine!"

Éponine smiled slightly, "I do..." she said, "I really do."

"Goodnight, 'Ponine," Courfeyrac said, walking to the door.

"Try not to let our revolutionary leader murder one of his closest friends before we're there to watch," Combeferre laughed.

"Goodnight, monsieurs." Éponine said as they left, closing the door quietly behind them. She sighed as she walked towards the bedroom she shared with Enjolras, not quite knowing what to expect; part of her was expecting to see her beloved ransacking the room in search of a weapon of some kind (what had possessed him to avoid knives in the kitchen drawers when he had been in there was a mystery to her).

However, when she opened the door, she found her dearest Apollo laying on his front on top of the bed covers, snoring loudly, still fully dressed. She smiled to herself, finding the whole scene quite adorable.

"Enjolras," she said, nudging him to wake him up, "Apollo!" she said, louder and more firm than her first attempt. He jerked awake, looking around wildly.

Éponine giggled slightly at his reaction. Hearing the laugh, Enjolras turned to look at her.

"Good evening, mademoiselle," he said, smirking.

"You're lying in bed fully dressed," she said disapprovingly.

"My apologies, my darling Athena." He said, ignoring her comment and pulling her onto the bed with him.

"Enjolras!" she protested, laughing as he kissed her neck; a particular weakness of hers, "That isn't fair!  _Enjolras!_ " she squealed as he found a ticklish spot. She pushed him off the side of the bed, nodding approvingly as she heard the thump of him falling onto the floorboards.

"You play a harsh game, mademoiselle." He muttered, picking himself up from the floor.

"This may very well be a game to you, sir, but I am not prepared to share a bed with a man who sleeps in the same clothes that he wears throughout the day."

When Enjolras finally did Éponine's bidding and changed out of his day clothes and into his 'pyjamas' (which were really just an old cotton shirt and trousers that were too scruffy to wear out in public anymore), he climbed into bed next to Éponine. She rolled over, resting her head in the crook of his neck, playing with a loose thread on his shirt. He put his arm around her, playing with her hair absentmindedly as his mind drifted to thoughts of sleep.

"Thank you," Éponine muttered interrupting his doze-like state.

"For what, 'Ponine?" he asked. It was rare for Enjolras to use the nickname most others used when addressing Éponine, but she always felt different when he said it. Courfeyrac said it in a brotherly way, as did Combeferre. Marius said it as her friend, her best friend usually, although due to the night's events, Éponine was seriously considering demoting his status in that respect. Grantaire didn't use it at all anymore, preferring to call her 'Athena' to annoy Enjolras.

When Enjolras called her 'Ponine, it was like she was the only 'Ponine in the world; she was  _his_  'Ponine, the only 'Ponine that mattered.

"For sticking up for me with Marius," she replied, "He's your friend. I wouldn't have expected you to defend me over him."

"Well you should," he insisted firmly, "You are far more important to me than a drunk Marius, Éponine. Besides, all that talk about his bloody wedding... he needed some sort of reality check."

"I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks so," Éponine chuckled.

"You will always be more important than him to me, 'Ponine," Enjolras murmured, his warm breath warming her face, "Just as Cosette will most likely always be more important to him than I am. And I'm fine with that."

"Goodnight, Apollo," Éponine said, sighing contentedly at his words.

"Goodnight, Athena."

* * *

The next morning, Enjolras woke to the smells and sounds of Éponine cooking in the kitchen. Considering the fact that he couldn't smell burning, he assumed that it was going well.

He dragged himself out of bed, getting changed before going through to the kitchen/living area. He found Éponine in the kitchen making crepes, and he had to remind himself that surprising her with a hug from behind was probably not a good idea when she was cooking.

Luckily, she glanced around, and smiled when she noticed him, "Good morning, monsieur," she said, "How's the head?"

"No hangover, if that's what you're asking," he smiled, "I wasn't  _that_  drunk."

"Do you still want to murder Marius?" Éponine asked, sliding the crepe she was making onto a plate, "It's just, Combeferre and Courfeyrac asked me to make sure you didn't do it before they could watch."

"I'm going to rise above it and not kill him," Enjolras smirked as he took the plate Éponine now passed to him and went to sit at the table, "Besides, I probably got my own back with what I said about him and Cosette... I was quite harsh."

"Well, it's like you said," Éponine shrugged, "He needed a reality check. And I'll most definitely be giving him a piece of  _my_  mind the next chance I get.  _Or_ , I won't say anything and I'll use it against him the next time I need to make him feel guilty..." Enjolras smiled.

"He knows absolutely nothing of our relationship," he said, almost as if he was trying to convince himself, "He knows nothing of my love for you, Éponine."

"And he knows nothing of my love for you," she said, sitting next to him and cupping his cheek with her hand, "And I love you very,  _very_ much, Enjolras. And not only do I  _not_  have any positive feelings towards Marius, I currently hold such a severe dislike for him that I'm not planning on even talking to him in the foreseeable future."

Enjolras kissed her lightly on the lips, smiling; Marius truly was a clueless idiot.


	9. A Daughter's Trust

**What if Éponine went to Valjean for comfort and guidance?**

A week later brought Éponine to Cosette's doorstep for a meeting regarding the dress she would be wearing on the big day. She had been to the house many times over the past few months, but never before had the door been opened by Cosette's father, Monsieur Fauchelevent. Éponine vaguely remembered him from the day he had come to take Cosette away; she had been in a corner of the room, distracted from her doll by the new visitor. He had avoided all of her parents' tricks, which had intrigued her further. She remembered wondering if the man would come again. He never did.

Which was why she was more than a little bit surprised when the man himself opened the door that morning. The look on his face showed that he recognised her, despite the ten years that had passed since that day in the inn.

"Good morning, Monsieur," she said, her voice quieter than usual but still holding Éponine's usual confidence.

"Good morning, Éponine," he nodded moving back slightly to let her in, "Cosette is in her dressing room. I'll show you the way." Éponine was grateful for his guidance; she had never been in Cosette's dressing room before, and she didn't want to make herself look like a complete idiot by wandering around aimlessly searching for her friend.

The two walked in an almost comfortable silence for the first minute. Then, however, Éponine was overcome by her curiosity.

"Monsieur, I don't suppose you remember me, do you?" she asked. She actually found herself to be nervous; she had been horrible to Cosette all those years ago, and, although the two had managed to put that behind them and were now firm friends, Éponine wondered if Monsieur Fauchelevent might hold it against her.

"Indeed I do," he said, smiling, "You were a high-strung little girl, weren't you?" Éponine smiled slightly.

"I was a brat," she said, "That much is apparent to me now. And... I want to apologise, to you, at least, seeing as Cosette won't let me, for all of the pain and humiliation I inflicted on your daughter. I was spiteful and cruel and I should never have done anything of the sort..."

Monsieur Fauchelevent smiled down at her, "You have nothing to apologise for, Éponine," he assured her, "What happened in the past is in the past. And you saved me from a possible jail sentence before the barricades, so... I should be thanking you, really." Éponine blushed slightly; she remembered the incident, when her parents had tried to con him for more money as further payment for Cosette. She was going to tell him that she wasn't actually helping him, but decided that he probably wouldn't listen to her anyway.

What she didn't understand was that she had done a lot more than help Monsieur Fauchelevent avoid Javert in the street. Éponine had saved both him and Cosette from her father and his gang, Cosette having told her father a long time ago that it was in fact Éponine who screamed and alerted them to the danger on the night before the barricades. It was Éponine who had brought Marius and Cosette together, offering the two a lifetime of happiness in each other's company.

And it was Éponine who convinced him to leave his life as Jean Valjean behind him. The kindness she had shown his daughter had shown him that it was always possible to change for good, and that the good deeds performed by one far outweighed the bad.

"It's this room," he said as they stopped outside the door, "And Éponine," he stopped her just before he was going to enter, "For what it's worth... the kindness you've shown Cosette in the last few months far outweighs the events of the past. If you ever need a father figure... I'd be happy to help." Éponine was slightly overwhelmed by the gesture, and she nodded her thanks before entering the room, wondering what on earth she had done in a previous life to deserve the one she had now.

* * *

Éponine found herself coming into contact with Monsieur Fauchelevent more and more over the coming weeks, and she was often grateful for his company. He understood her in a way only Enjolras did, and for that, she was grateful for reasons she wasn't quite aware of.

Said reason became apparent soon after, however. It was early November, and Enjolras had travelled to his parents' house for the weekend for his father's birthday (and he was going to tell them about his relationship with Éponine whilst he was there). Éponine found herself alone in the apartment she usually shared, a fact she was fine with... in theory.

What neither of them was counting on was the fact that Éponine and nightmares were a frankly awful mix. And taking Enjolras out of the picture to comfort her only made matters worse.

So, when Éponine woke in the middle of the night, crying hysterically, with Enjolras not there to help her, Éponine turned to the only person she currently trusted.

She should have been at least cautiously scared as she walked the short distance through the backstreets of Paris to the Fauchelevent household. Her dream had left her so shaken, however, that it was commendable that she made it to the large house without breaking down completely.

Knocking on the door with as much strength as she could muster, Éponine wondered if a servant would open the door and send her away; she wouldn't blame them, seeing as she had turned up in the middle of the night in her nightwear. She was, therefore, ridiculously relieved when Monsieur Fauchelevent himself appeared in the doorway.

"Éponine?" his voice was quiet so as not to wake everyone in the house, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I... I think I need a father figure, monsieur," she said, tears falling from her eyes. Without a second thought, he guided her inside, shutting the door behind them and leading Éponine to the kitchen where his cook was just finishing tidying up.

"I don't suppose you could make us some tea before you go to bed, Madame?" he asked, steering Éponine to a chair at the kitchen table. The Fauchelevent household's resident cook was a plump, middle-aged woman, and anyone who met her agreed that it would be a hard job to find someone kinder. She quickly did his bidding, before leaving him and Éponine alone.

"I apologise for getting you up at such a late hour, monsieur," Éponine said quietly, "I know that it is rather rude of me. But... I didn't know who else to go to. Enjolras is out of town, you see, and... I had a nightmare." Normally, one would have been embarrassed to admit such a thing; she was a grown woman now after all, and she could definitely fight her own battles.

Éponine, however, was too shaken to be embarrassed; and this told the man in front of her far more than her actual words.

"It must have been some nightmare," he said quietly, waiting for her to elaborate. Éponine nodded, sipping her tea. She was staring into the cup as if she'd never seen anything so interesting in all her life.

"It was about the barricades," she said, her voice barely above a whisper after a few moments of silence, "I... I died, early on. Marius found me wounded but... he was too late. Then, others started to follow. Feuilly, Jehan, Joly, Combeferre, Courfeyrac... And then Enjolras..." he voice cracked as she remembered that fateful part of the dream, "He refused to give up on his cause, and then he was cornered by the National Guard... They just shot him down! Him and Grantaire... and it was like I was just standing back and watching it all, and I couldn't do anything!" she broke down, tears rolling freely down her cheeks and for a moment Valjean was too shocked to do anything. However, he had been a father for over ten years by that point, and his parental instincts kicked in as he pulled Éponine into his embrace.

"It was only a dream," he said soothingly as Éponine cried into his shoulder, "The fight at the barricades was a success, Éponine! Everyone got out alive, even Enjolras. What would he say if he heard you saying all this about his plans failing that day, hmm? He'd be positively livid!" This earned him a small smile form the girl in his arms, and Valjean was reminded briefly of the little girl he saw in her parents' inn so many years ago.

Then he realised that Éponine was nothing like she was when she was eight years old. She had said it herself a few weeks previously; she had been a brat. He parents spoilt her and wrapped her up in their life of crime. The Éponine who had turned up on his doorstep that night was a completely different person.

_This_  Éponine was headstrong, confident and had morals. She had lived a tough life up until the time when she got together with Enjolras. She had been forced from a life of luxury onto the streets, and everything she knew about the world had changed. But that was what encouraged her to grow into the intelligent young woman she was now.

And Valjean figured she deserved some kind of repayment.

"I wish to tell you a story, Éponine," he said quietly, "Because you are not the only person who has lived a hard life. There was once a man, whose name was Jean Valjean..." And he told her his story, all of it, without leaving out any details.

He told her how he lived with his sister and her children. That they had so little money that they couldn't buy enough food to survive. That he had stolen the bread, not out of greed or spite, but to feed his nephew, who would have starved otherwise.

He told her of his nineteen years as a slave, labouring away with the other prisoners ever day, without fail, surprised that he survived for as long as he did. He told her of Javert, of how he pursued him relentlessly from the second he left the prison where he spent so much of his life.

He told her of the Bishop, the man who inspired him to find the good in everyone. The man who saved him from being re-imprisoned. The man he stole from, after all the kindness he had received.

He told her of Fantine, Cosette's mother. How she had been so beautiful, even in her final moments of life, because she had given up everything for the little girl she barely knew. And then he told her of how, after taking Cosette away, he had run, and changed his identity, to keep him and Cosette safe.

Éponine sat, listening silently through Valjean's tale. When he had finished, she thought of everything he had told her.

"You're Jean Valjean?" she asked quietly. He nodded, "You did all of that, all of those selfless things?" Valjean nodded again.

"I know what it feels like to lose everything you love, Éponine," he said quietly, "And I know you do too. But we both have better lives now. Sometimes... it takes a little nightmare to shock that into us."

"Did you ever go looking for your sister?" Éponine questioned. Valjean was caught offguard by the question.

"I... I looked for her, once," he answered, "I didn't find her. I always thought... maybe she passed on." Éponine looked thoughtful.

"It may be worth searching for her again, monsieur," she said, "I found my brother after eight years, just by chance. Sometimes you have to go looking for something if you want to find it." Valjean smiled.

"Perhaps you're right," he agreed, "I should try again." Éponine nodded.

"I'll keep your secret, monsieur," she told him, "And, for what it's worth... I know you've always been a good man. Even when you thought you hated the world." He smiled back at her.

"I'm glad to have you as part of my family, Éponine," he said, "And next time you face a nightmare alone: remember that you're never really on your own." She nodded again.

"Goodnight, monsieur," she said, "I won't impose any longer. And I apologise, once again, for keeping you up."

"Perhaps you should stay the night," he offered, "It won't do for a young lady like you to walk the streets alone at night." This statement just made Éponine grin.

"Oh, don't you worry about me," she said, "I've had practice at walking the streets alone. I haven't had the need since I got Enjolras, but... perhaps it will be nice to do it again." With that, she left Valjean alone in his kitchen, the man thinking that Éponine was indeed one of a kind.


	10. Sticks and Stones

**What if Thénardier got his revenge on Éponine for ruining his raid on the Rue Plumet and how would Enjolras react?**

It was safe to say that Éponine was more than relieved to have Enjolras back the next evening; Valjean had given her someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on, but Enjolras had experience with Éponine and her nightmares. In short: she really did need him.

What they weren't counting on was the fact that one of Éponine's worst nightmare's was about to come into real life...

"Azelma!" Éponine said happily, seeing her sister waiting in the cafe where they had agreed to meet for lunch. She wrapped her younger sister in a hug, "How are you?"

"I'm..." she looked Éponine up and down, "A lot worse off than you by the looks of it! Did you actually get off with that bourgeois boy you were always talking about?!"

"I did not 'get off' with anyone," Éponine said, sitting opposite her sister at a table, "And it wasn't Marius who I got off with either."

"So you  _did_  get off with someone?" Azelma said, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

"I am now in a committed relationship, if that's what you mean." Éponine smiled excitedly.

"Who is he, what does he do and is he as good looking as the other one?"

"You'll make fun of me if I tell you who he is!" Éponine frowned.

"I will not!" Azelma protested, "Come on, 'Ponine, just tell me!"

Éponine sighed, "Fine," she said grudgingly, "You know Enjolras?"

"Not at all," Azelma shrugged, "Who is he?"

"He's the one who lead the whole... barricade rebellion?" Éponine said. Azelma's eyes widened.

"So you  _did_  get off with a bourgeois boy!" she laughed hysterically, "Who would have thought it! Our 'Ponine, getting off with a bourgeois boy!"

"For the last time, I didn't get off with him!" Éponine hissed, "He saved my life!"

"Of course he did," Azelma replied, "Really, 'Ponine, do you really believe that I'm that gullible?!"

"I'm not lying, 'Zelma!" Éponine said, frowning, "Marius was being an idiot, and someone aimed a gun at him. I got in the way of the bullet. If it hadn't been for Enjolras' persistency to not just let me die, I wouldn't be here right now!" Azelma frowned, searching Éponine's face for any hint of a lie and finding nothing but sincerity.

"Christ, Éponine!" she said, "Did you have some kind of death wish?!"

"I didn't really think it through," Éponine muttered, "Marius was in danger and I had to help him..."

"And yet you're now with this revolutionary leader?" Azelma raised her eyebrows again, "How did that happen?!"

"Like I said, Enjolras saved my life," Éponine smiled at the memory of Enjolras carrying her through the rain, letting her complain about his persistency and just laughing it all off, "And besides, Marius is with Cosette. They're getting married in a few weeks."

"Cosette?!" this was, apparently, news to Azelma, "Cosette's here? In Paris? And she's marrying a bourgeois boy?"

"She's reasonably high up in society herself!" Éponine laughed, "Love at first sight is how her relationship with Marius started."

"Eugh, how typically perfect..." Azelma scoffed.

"She's not as bad as Mama and Papa made her out to be," Éponine scolded her sister, "You were only a baby when she was living with us anyway."

"I was four!" Azelma argued, "That is hardly a  _baby_.  _Gavroche_  was a baby!"

"That isn't the point," Éponine told her, "The point is that she's really nice and kind and the only flaw she really has is talking about her wedding too much."

"Oh so she does have a flaw?!" Azelma acted shocked, "That really is a surprise!"

Éponine frowned, "How are Mama and Papa?" she asked, thinking it best to just change the subject to avoid a full-blown argument.

"They're fine." Azelma said. Éponine was expecting her to say more, but her sister stopped short, suddenly becoming edgy and a lot less talkative.

They ate their dinner in near silence, only conversing to ask how the other's food was. When they'd finished, Azelma almost went off without even saying goodbye.

"You've been really quiet today," Éponine said as she noticed that her sister was about to leave, "I haven't seen you in two months... I thought you might have a lot to tell me."

"No, no," Azelma said hastily shaking her head, "Nothing's happened really. It's all the same. Papa is still robbing, Mama is still helping. That's it really. I have to go, I don't want to be late. I'll see you soon, Éponine!" she said, before running off down the street.

"'Zelma!" Éponine called after her sister, but Azelma kept running, leaving Éponine alone at the table.

* * *

Enjolras on the other hand was at home, doing his best to tutor Courfeyrac for their upcoming exam. Enjolras was getting increasingly frustrated by Courfeyrac's apparently non-existent attention span when they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Sighing irritably, he abandoned an almost sleeping Courfeyrac at the table and opened the door. Combeferre had entered with Gavroche laughing on his back before Enjolras had ever considered saying 'come in'. He frowned at the two of them.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, shutting the door, "We're trying to work."

"By the looks of it, you're the one working and Courf's the one sleeping!" Combeferre chuckled. In response, Enjolras picked up a cushion from the sofa and launched it at Courfeyrac's head. The student leapt to his feet, knocking the chair he had been sitting on over in the process. Gavroche and Combeferre were in fits of laughter, Gavroche actually rolling around on the floor, as Enjolras just looked smugly at his now terrified friend.

"Did you enjoy your nap, Courfeyrac?" Enjolras asked amusedly.

"That... that was mean, Enjolras!" Courfeyrac muttered, breathing heavily, "You scared the living daylights out of me!"

"Good!" Enjolras said, "That was my intention! Now, are you going to finish you revision, or did you really come here to use my dining table as a pillow?"

* * *

Éponine sat at the table for almost an hour after her sister had left, thinking about the strange way Azelma had acted. Yes, she had never been the most outgoing of children, and she often just gave in and did what she was told (unlike Éponine for the most part). But her sister had always been able to talk to her, about anything.

And Éponine just couldn't shake the feeling that Azelma had been hiding something.

When she finally left the cafe (after having received some rather annoyed looks from the owner who thought she was just taking advantage of the table), she made her way back home, taking her usual route.

That was her first mistake.

She walked down the street from the cafe, bumping into Bahorel, who was on his way to the cafe she's just left. She stood and talked with him for a few minutes before saying her goodbyes and carrying on. She reached an alleyway between two now abandoned blocks of flats, and, still following her usual route, walked down it.

That was her second mistake.

She spotted the figure of a man leaning against the wall at the far end of the alley. She slowed her walk slightly, hoping that he'd leave before she reached him; it was almost dark, and she knew all too well what some of the men in Paris were like on the streets at night.

This was her third, final and arguably worst mistake.

Slowing down, she heard heavy footsteps behind her. In the time it took for her to glance around and recognise one of the ghastly brutes from her father's gang, the man at the other end of the alley had also started advancing towards her. She was trapped between them with nowhere to run or hide and nothing to fight them off with other than her bare hands.

More men closed in around her and her breath hitched in her throat as she recognised her father among the crowd.

"Well, look who it is, lads!" her father sneered, "Dear old 'Ponine! Haven't seen you in a while. We all reckoned you'd got yourself killed on the barricade. Then we started spotting you, out and about, always hanging off the arm of that revolutionary sod."

"Go away, Papa." Éponine snarled, backing up against the wall of one of the buildings.

"Ah, but don't you remember, 'Ponine?" Montparnasse said, his voice deadly, "You ruined our raid on that old man's house all those weeks ago. 'I'll scream' you said-"

"And I'll scream again!" Éponine said defiantly, "I have friends around here, Montparnasse, one shall hear me!"

"Ah, but you forgot!" Montparnasse continued, "Because what did your dear Papa reply, 'Ponine?"

"I'll make you scream." Thénardier whispered almost gleefully.

"Leave me alone!" Éponine demanded, trying to stop her voice shaking.

"But that isn't going to happen, 'Ponine, " Montparnasse said, running a filthy finger down the side of Éponine's face. She jerked her head away from him, "Because, you see... you  _belong_  to us. Always have, always will... and we're getting tired of your silly little games."

"Enough playing, Montparnasse," Thénardier muttered, "You may be unattached, but you heard my wife. I'm not risking any part of my body for this brat. Do what you wish with her, and then we leave."

"I'll scream!" Éponine said once again, "I'll alert some-"

She stopped short as her father brought a knife to your throat, "One more sound out of you, and I will make sure you never utter another word." He said brutally.

As the other men started closing in, Éponine looked around desperately for a way out, but seeing nowhere. She closed her eyes, a single tear rolling down her face as a fist collided with her stomach. She doubled over and another blow to her head knocked her to the floor.

"You see, Éponine, this is what happens to the people who go against what we say," he father sneered. A boot hit home on her ribs as another collided with her back and Éponine gasped for breath, " _This_  is what happens when you disobey us."

"Stop," she choked out, "Please!"

Montparnasse bent down, grabbing a fistful of her hair, pulling her face closer to his.

"We've barely even started 'Ponine," he growled, "When we're finished with you, you won't have it in you to beg for mercy."

* * *

Enjolras paced around the apartment, trying to organise the chaotic thoughts pounding through his head.

Éponine had said she'd be home from dinner with her sister by eight. Courfeyrac, Combeferre and Gavroche had left at quarter to eight, heading to the Musain to socialise. Enjolras had said he would follow when Éponine returned home.

Eight had struck, and his beloved was not yet back. He hadn't been worried; she hadn't seen her sister in months after all, and they needed time to catch up.

Half past eight had passed, and Enjolras was still alone in their flat. He was slightly concerned, but not so much worried; Éponine was probably on her way home right that second.

When it reached nine o'clock, he had started to worry. As the minutes ticked past nine and towards ten, it went from worry, to severely anxious, to downright panic.

Not knowing what else to do, he grabbed his coat, left the apartment and ran all the way to the Musain to see if Éponine had perhaps gone straight there to meet him.

He practically burst through the doors, scanning the room desperately for her dark hair or her sparkling eyes, listening out for her captivating laugh.

"Here he is! Finally coming to join us!" Courfeyrac laughed.

"Have any of you seen Éponine?" he asked, concern clear in his voice.

"She isn't home yet?" Combeferre asked, frowning.

"Would I be asking if she was?" Enjolras snapped.

"Look, calm down, she's probably just running late," Marius said.

"Half an hour late I'd be able to accept," Enjolras said through gritted teeth, "An hour and a half? No one can be that late accidentally. No... something's happened."

"Right, come on everyone," Grantaire, unbelievably not completely drunk, said, grabbing his jacket, "We've got an Athena to find."

Everyone followed his lead, leaving drinks half-drunk on the table and picking up jackets and coats.

Gavroche came running over from the other side of the room, "Where're you lot going?!" the group looked at each other, trying to silently decide what to tell Gavroche. Everyone but Enjolras that is.

"Éponine's not home yet," he said, "I think something's happened. We're going out to look for her." Gavroche's face hardened.

"Well, what are we waiting for then?!" he demanded, running out of the cafe. Enjolras ran after him, the rest of the Amis hot on his heels.

* * *

Éponine dragged herself nearer to the wall and into a sitting position, gasping in pain as she leant her back against it. Tears streamed down her face and she dragged in breaths, trying to ignore the excruciating pain radiating from her chest. She had welts and gashes from Montparnasse's belt covering her arms and legs; she supposed she should count herself lucky that the bastard had kept his trousers up.

She sat in silence, not being able to make a sound, tears falling freely down her face, silently begging someone to help her. She could already feel the little strength she had left draining out of her.

She wished one more time for a saviour, for her beloved Enjolras to once again carry her to safety in his arms. Then she closed her eyes, and they stayed closed, the last of her energy leaving her.

* * *

Enjolras and the Amis searched the streets desperately, asking anyone and everyone they passed if they had seen Éponine. They kept receiving the same answers:

"Sorry, monsieur, I haven't seen her tonight."

Enjolras was being driven insane. None of the Amis knew what they could do to calm him, except for finding Éponine before the matter worsened.

Gavroche wasn't much better than their despairing leader, tearing through the streets without even thinking to wait for one of the Amis. The students had no idea as to where he had disappeared to, so they continued searching, hoping that they would run into Gavroche later.

Grantaire and Enjolras, with the most knowledge of the backstreets of the area, took to searching the alleys and the pathways that were barely noticeable, as the others asked around on the main streets and in the few shops and cafes that were still open.

Eventually, Courfeyrac and Joly bumped into Bahorel in the cafe were Éponine had earlier been situated.

"Bahorel!" Courfeyrac called out, catching his friend's attention. Bahorel came over.

"Good evening!" he said cheerfully, "Finally branching out from that single cafe you always go to?"

"No," Joly said seriously, "We're looking for Éponine. Have you seen her?"

Bahorel frowned, "Earlier tonight, yes," he told them, "Just as she was leaving this cafe actually. We spoke for a few minutes, then she said she had to get home."

"What time?" Courfeyrac prompted hastily.

"Erm... it must have been gone eight... quarter past at a guess."

"Thanks, Bahorel!" Courfeyrac said before dragging Joly away from the cafe. Everyone seemed to meet at that point in the street at that moment.

"Bahorel said that Éponine left this cafe at quarter past eight," Joly told them, "Which way would she have-"

"Amis! Amis!" Gavroche's cries came from behind them, "Éponine took her normal way home! She's got to be around here somewhere!"

"How do you know, Gavroche?" Marius asked, frowning.

"She's been attacked!" he said breathlessly, "I found Azelma crying on some steps not far from here. She said that she'd told our father which way Éponine went home. They were supposed to have been grabbing her." He started running further down the street, "She's got to be here somewhere!"

The rest of the Amis sprung into action, running down side streets and alleys, calling Éponine's name.

It was Combeferre and Courfeyrac who spotted her, just as Enjolras and Grantaire appeared at the opposite end of the alley Éponine usually took home.

"Éponine!" Enjolras cried, running up to where her battered body was up against a wall. Combeferre reached her at the same time as Courfeyrac called to Joly. Combeferre gently pushed Enjolras out of the way, feeling for a pulse.

"She's still alive," he said thankfully, "But her pulse is getting weaker. We need to get her somewhere where we can treat her properly."

"Back to our apartment," Enjolras managed to say, his face pale, frozen to the spot with the sheer shock and worry or finding Éponine in such a state. Joly nodded in agreement, before running off to get some supplies from his own flat.

Seeing that Enjolras was unable to help, Combeferre lifted Éponine into his arms and led the way back to Enjolras' flat, the seemingly unshakable revolutionary leader being guided along behind.

* * *

In the state of panic Enjolras had left his flat in, he had forgotten to lock the door, and so Combeferre and Joly wasted no time in entering and going through to the bedroom.

Enjolras, now coming to his senses slightly followed them in, ignoring Grantaire when he said that he should 'give them some space to help her'.

He crouched by the side of the bed and took Éponine's hand in his. Combeferre and Joly didn't have the heart to make him move, and so they worked around him.

By the early hours of the morning, Enjolras was almost zombie-like, dark rings having suddenly appeared around his eyes and his eyelids drooping, the hours of emotional trauma taking their toll. Joly and Combeferre were still working, cleaning and dressing Éponine's wounds and checking every so often to see if her lungs had been punctured by any of her many broken ribs.

Just as Enjolras was about to collapse from exhaustion, Marius and Grantaire picked him up and supported him as he stumbled into the spare bedroom; the room that Éponine had recovered in two short months earlier.

The rest of the Amis sat around in the living area, Courfeyrac sitting on one end of the sofa with a sleeping Gavroche in his lap, Marius at the other end of the sofa, and Feuilly and Grantaire at the dining table, all of them anxiously waiting for Combeferre or Joly to emerge from the bedroom. Enjolras had rejoined the Amis after a mere two hours sleep, stating that he couldn't rest knowing the state that Éponine was in, but unable to force himself to go back into the bedroom.

It was beginning to get light when the two Amis finally came out. They both looked exhausted and like they were about to collapse themselves, but they smiled reassuringly.

"She's out of immediate danger," they told them. Enjolras practically fainted from sheer relief, leaning on the kitchen worktop to support himself. Without another word, he ran back into the bedroom, kissing Éponine's forehead tenderly, before retaking his position at her side.

As Joly and Combeferre went home to sleep for a few hours, the Amis took it in turns to sit with Enjolras and Éponine. They practically had to force Enjolras to eat his breakfast, which therefore took the form of a piece of bread eaten at Éponine's bedside.

Several times Éponine stirred in her sleep, muttering indistinguishable words under her breath, twitching every so often as if she was having a nightmare. Whilst he was there, Enjolras sung to her, memories of the last time his beloved had feared for her life flooding back.

Joly and Combeferre arrived just after lunch to check on her. The other Amis still resided in Enjolras' flat, waiting for the time when Éponine was completely out of danger and they could all rest easier knowing that their friend was safe.

Combeferre checked all of the dressings and reported that most of the wounds had finally stopped bleeding. Joly was also satisfied that Éponine's lungs were not in danger of being punctured; she was going to be fine, despite that daunting recovery period ahead.

This news hit Enjolras like a ton of bricks. The shock was unbelievable and he could not stop thanking his friends for saving Éponine's life. An enormous weight was finally lifted off his shoulders as he kissed Éponine's hand fondly.

Joly left Enjolras with instructions for how to look after Éponine when she woke up and Combeferre wrote them down, knowing that, chances were, Enjolras hadn't listened to a world Joly had said.

One by one, the Amis had said their goodbyes, promising to return later or tomorrow. Only Courfeyrac and Gavroche stayed, Gavroche refusing to leave until he had heard his sister talk, and Courfeyrac not wanting to leave Gavroche in Enjolras' company when the leader had eyes only for Éponine.

Gavroche did not have to wait too long; just as the sun was setting and evening was replacing the afternoon, Éponine groaned, her eyes fluttering open. Enjolras was immediately alert.

"'Ponine?" he said, barely daring to believe that she was awake once more, "Athena?"

"Enjolras?" she croaked, her throat dry and her chest still ridiculously painful, "What...?"

"Your father." Was all Enjolras had to say, the venom in his voice unmistakable. Éponine understood immediately as Enjolras helped her sit up.

After a series of cries and gasps of pain, Éponine was in a sitting position, Enjolras offering her a mug of water as Gavroche, hearing his sister's pain-filled voice, burst into the room.

"Éponine!" he cried happily, running around to the opposite side of the bed as Enjolras. Éponine laughed, but regretted it immediately as a fresh wave of pain erupted from her chest. Enjolras comforted her, as Gavroche looked on worriedly. Noticing her brother's concerned look she smiled.

"I'm fine, Gavroche." She told him. He smiled slightly.

"You don't look it," he told her honestly.

"Don't judge a book by its cover." She scolded him playfully.

"I swear, 'Ponine, soon as I'm big enough I'm going to make Papa suffer as much as he made you." Gavroche said, his tone hard and angry. Éponine's hatred for her father and his gang was too strong for her to tell Gavroche not to.

"And in the meantime," Enjolras muttered, fantasising about all the evil things he could do to Thénardier, "I'd be more than happy to destroy his pathetic little life..." Éponine rested a hand on his face, snapping him out of his daydream.

"I'd rather I was in one piece again before you start destroying anyone." She said. Enjolras kissed her properly for the first time in what felt like forever, before turning to Courfeyrac.

"Can I have my weapons back yet?" he asked. Courfeyrac grinned.

"Like 'Ponine said," he told him, "Let's get her well again first. Then I'll be by your side as you rip his life to pieces." Enjolras nodded his thanks, sliding up onto the bed next to Éponine. She rested her head gratefully on his shoulder.

"Are you two going to kiss again?" Gavroche asked, making a face, "Because if you are, can you wait for me to leave the room? It's quite disgusting." Enjolras chuckled and Éponine smiled, containing her laughter to avoid any further pain.

That night, Enjolras and Éponine slept side by side, Enjolras still in the sitting position he had been earlier on in the evening, Éponine's head in his lap, pain forgotten as she slept peacefully with her Apollo.

Enjolras on the other hand slept more fitfully, unable to get the man who almost killed his beloved out of his head. As he forced his thoughts away from Thénardier, another thought replaced them:

_No one shall hurt Éponine ever again_.

And, making that thought his driving force to not only get justice for Éponine, but also to create a better France and for how Enjolras himself lived his life, he also slept, happy to have his Athena in the safety of his arms once more.


	11. Aftermath

**What if Enjolras and Éponine were struggling after Éponine's attack, and the Amis decided to help?**

Enjolras stroked Éponine's hair, murmuring soothing words to her as she sobbed into his chest. It had been almost two months since the Thénardier incident and Éponine had almost recovered completely... physically that is. Emotionally, on the other hand, this was far from true.

Every night for the last six weeks, Éponine had woken up screaming after having yet another nightmare about her father. Enjolras was doing his best to comfort her and assure her that she was safe, but Éponine still refused to leave the apartment alone, and if she stayed behind when Enjolras went out, she made sure that the door was locked after him.

Éponine knew, deep down, that the precautions were silly; her father probably thought she was dead, and even if he didn't then he had successfully made her pay the reparations he required after she ruined his raid.

However, the more dominant part of her was far less willing to be logical, and so she locked herself away from the world; if he was honest, Enjolras really couldn't blame her.

*. . .*

Éponine didn't appear at the Musain for so long that the Amis were beginning to worry. Despite Enjolras' attempts to assure them that she was quite safe and that her recovery was going from strength to strength, they all made a point of going to see her.

It had been Courfeyrac who had gone to visit her first, dragged along by Gavroche who had gotten bored of visiting by himself.

"'Ponine needs to see other people as well!" Gavroche had insisted, dragging his friend all the way from his flat. Courfeyrac, knowing better than to argue with the stubborn gamin, let him lead the way, and grinned when he found Enjolras sitting with Éponine, both of them laughing.

"What's so funny?" Gavroche asked, frowning.

"Nothing, nothing," Éponine giggled, "Enjolras was just telling me about the...  _incident_  when Grantaire was drunk the other night." Courfeyrac laughed.

"Yes, you should be sorry that you missed it." He winked at her, grabbing a chair from the corner of the room and coming to sit by her bedside.

"Oh, I am," she said, grimacing jokily, "But  _someone-_ " she looked pointedly at Enjolras, "Is insisting that I remain in bed until Joly or Combeferre say that I'm allowed to do otherwise."

"Well, maybe he speaks  _some_  common sense then!" Courfeyrac said, "Something he seems to have gained since his beloved revolution was achieved..."

"It hasn't been achieved just yet, Courfeyrac," Enjolras shrugged, "I haven't received a reply from anyone at the government and I have yet to see any of our suggestions-"

"They were more like demands than suggestions." Éponine interrupted him.

"Whatever they are... none of them have been implemented." Enjolras finished.

They then had got onto the topic of the revolution and how Enjolras was considering going to the government buildings in central Paris and building a barricade there to see if he could get the notice required for change.

"Well, that proves it," Courfeyrac exclaimed, "You're well and truly mental. There's no denying it. Forget what I said about you having gained some common sense, Enjolras: it is ridiculously obvious that you still have none!"

Soon after, Courfeyrac and Gavroche had left, the former insisting that the latter needed to eat.

"Bye, 'Ponine," Gavroche said grudgingly, giving his sister a hug.

"Bye, 'Vroche." Éponine smiled.

"Get well soon, Éponine," Courfeyrac smiles, also giving her a hug. Éponine smiled her thanks to him as he left the room.

Over the coming days, all of the Amis dropped in at some point, some more frequently than others, but all with messages for Éponine to get well soon.

After the first week, Combeferre and Joly both declared Éponine well enough to get out of bed, something that, at first, she seemed more than grateful for. When Enjolras suggested that they go out for dinner that night, however, she stood staring at the front door for a full fifteen minutes, not able to move a step closer.

"'Ponine?" Enjolras had looked at her questioningly, "Are you under the impression that you can open the door by merely looking at it?" she shook her head, not making a sound, her fists clenched at her sides.

"Éponine?" Enjolras had approached her, "What's wrong?" he rested his hand on her arm, which seemed to bring her out of whatever daze she had been in.

"Sorry, I..." she shuddered, "I don't think I want to go out just yet." Enjolras had frowned, but nodded understandingly.

*. . .*

Now, as Enjolras hummed a lullaby to a still crying Éponine, he couldn't help but think that where some things had gotten better, others had just gotten worse...

Yes, his beloved was now fine going out of the apartment, as long as she was accompanied by someone. However, she would never go out after dark, for the fear that her father and his gang might just ambush her again. On top of that, she was plagued by nightmares, and Enjolras was plagued by them too, not daring to let himself sleep properly in case Éponine was in need of comfort in the night.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Enjolras murmured as Éponine's sobs quietened.

"Good God, no," Éponine said immediately, "The sooner I get that out of my head the better." Enjolras smiled slightly.

"We need to do something about this, 'Ponine," he said quietly, "You can't live like this...  _we_  can't live like this!"

"I know," she replied, he tone regretful, "And, Enjolras, I really am-"

"Don't even think about it," Enjolras said firmly, "If you apologise one more time, I think I might explode."

"Physiologically impossible," Éponine murmured into his chest, "Something Joly didn't hesitate to explain last time I said it about Gavroche's persistent badgering for a cake..."

*. . .*

The fact that Enjolras was being kept up at night was something that had not failed to be noticed by the Amis. Their leader had often spoken of Éponine's nightmares, and they were beginning to see signs of Enjolras' worry: the constantly tired look on his face from comforting Éponine the night before, the way his voice was always quiet as a result. He always left hours before anyone else did, and Éponine never came out with her beloved anymore.

In short: the group was worried for both their leader and his love. And they were determined to do something about it.

* * *

Enjolras had managed to persuade Éponine to come to the Musain with him one Wednesday, and she gripped his arm tightly as they walked through the streets. Enjolras' anger and hate towards Thénardier was only ever increased when walking out with Éponine; she who had once been so strong, so capable of living out on the streets, now reduced to clinging to him for fear she might be attacked. There was so much wrong with that that it made the revolutionary seethe.

When they reached the Musain, Éponine was in slightly higher spirits, being surrounded by her friends who were all laughing merrily and getting well and truly drunk. Even Enjolras forgot his tiredness as Grantaire slammed some ale in front of them. Little did either of them know that the Amis were about to put their plan of action in place.

"You two... you two should go away for a few days," Grantaire slurred, already drunk beyond belief, despite it only being early evening.

Enjolras frowned, "What, now?" He questioned sceptically, "What with all of the... things that have happened recently?"

"Sooner the better, I say!" Courfeyrac joined in, "You two need a break away from here."

"You know, I'm really not-" Éponine began, before being interrupted by Combeferre.

"Oh, Marius! What's that you've got in your pocket?!"

"Oh, you mean this mysterious envelope?" Marius said, smiling secretively, "These are reservations for a hotel in the South of France for two people... but wait! What with all the wedding planning, I haven't got time to go on holiday!" he handed the envelope to Enjolras, who stared at it confusedly.

"Well, you're in luck!" Combeferre grinned, "Because Enjolras and Éponine's schedules have just been cleared for the next ten days," Grantaire reached under the table and picked up two bags.

"Here you go you two," he said, handing them to Enjolras and Éponine, "Everything you need for a two week holiday in the South of France. There's a carriage waiting outside for you."

Enjolras and Éponine looked at each other disbelievingly.

"Part of me's saying 'don't let them have the privilege of getting us out of here'," Enjolras muttered, "But the other half is saying-"

"Goodbye everyone!" Éponine finished for him, grabbing a bag in one hand and Enjolras' hand with the other. Enjolras grinned, picking up the other bag. He attempted to wave goodbye to them as Éponine pulled him out of the cafe, mouthing 'Thank You!' as he did so. The rest of the Amis just laughed, waving the two of them off.

Enjolras pulled the door of the carriage shut behind him, sliding next to Éponine on the seat. She wrapped her arms round his neck, kissing him without warning. He smiled slightly before kissing her back, feeling for the first time in weeks, that he had his 'Ponine back again.

"I'm sorry," Éponine said, pressing a finger to Enjolras' lips as she saw that he was once again going to protest, "I know that the last few weeks have been hard for you, and that if I had tried to get over... what happened then it would have been easier on both of us." Enjolras kissed her again.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, because none of this was your fault," he told her when they broke apart, "But we do need a break. I hate to say it, but... for once, the Amis were  _completely_  right."

The spent the journey to their hotel in each other's embrace, talking, laughing and just sitting, care-free for the first time in what felt like forever.


	12. As Safe as Safe Could Be

**What if Éponine and Enjolras engaged in an imaginative range of activities on their holiday?**

Éponine yawned as she woke up, a cool breeze drifting over her bare arms. She smiled, remembering the night before; she had arrived with Enjolras reasonably late, but neither of them had been tired after the journey. The events that transpired after they'd checked in would stick in Éponine's memory for the rest of her life, as they easily made up the best night she had ever had.

Rolling onto her side, she frowned as she saw that the other side of the bed was empty. Sitting up, she saw that the door to the balcony was open. She grabbed her dressing gown from the end of the bed where it had been so carelessly flung last night, and approached the doors slowly.

When she reached them, she found Enjolras standing outside, dressed only in his 'pyjamas', his arms crossed and leaning on the rail in front of him.

"You're up early," Éponine commented as she went to stand next to him. As always, Enjolras didn't jump at Éponine's voice; he merely turned his head and smiled.

"I was just thinking," he replied.

"Does the cold help you to think?" Éponine questioned, smirking, "Because it's freezing out here. Is it too difficult to think inside?" Enjolras smirked back at her.

"It is with  _someone's_  snoring," he teased.

"I do not snore!" Éponine protested.

"Oh, of course, you, er... 'breathe heavily'." Enjolras said, grinning internally at the outraged look on Éponine's face, "I'm joking, 'Ponine." Éponine huffed in reply, turning around and walking back into their hotel room. Enjolras didn't worry; both he and Éponine knew that she wouldn't be annoyed at him for long.

"What were you thinking about?" she asked as he followed her in and shut the doors behind him.

"Last night, mostly," he shrugged, "It was... beyond incredible." Éponine smiled, turning to face him.

"Agreed," she said, walking up to him again. He pressed his lips to hers, smiling as he did so.

"It made me realise something," Enjolras said quietly, leaning his forehead against hers, "I love you, Éponine. More than anything in this world."

"Don't let Patria here you saying that," Éponine teased, earning her a chuckle from Enjolras, "I love you too. More than ever after last night... You were a completely different Enjolras."

"Well, if it's alright with you, I'll go back to the original Enjolras for today," he said, smiling slightly as he moved away to get dressed, "What should we do? We have ten days... what are we going to do with ourselves?! We haven't had any time off since..."

"Ever," Éponine finished for him, "We could explore? I've never been this far south in France before."

"Neither have I," Enjolras said thoughtfully, "Alright. We'll 'explore'. Maybe even go to the beach."

"Gavroche would be jealous," Éponine said, smiling, "He's never been to the beach. Maybe we could take him, one day."

"I think he'd like that," Enjolras nods, "I never expected to like him, you know. Children and I don't usually get along."

"I don't think that's just the case with children, Apollo," Éponine said.

"You really are very hilarious," Enjolras commented dryly, "I was merely pointing out that Gavroche is different from most of the children I've met."

"Gavroche isn't like  _any_  children  _anywhere_ " Éponine smiled, "He's one of a kind."

"Just like his sister," Enjolras grinned as he wrapped his arms around Éponine's waist. Éponine just raised her eyebrows.

"Okay, enough talk," she said, "I need to get dressed and  _you_  need to go and get us some breakfast."

"Whatever you say, my dearest Athena," Enjolras kissed her once more before leaving their room to do as his beloved said.

Éponine smiled to herself, thinking back to the night before; yes, Enjolras was definitely 'the one'.

* * *

Éponine and Enjolras enjoyed a breakfast of crepes with fresh fruit, courtesy of the hotel owners; Hélen and Marcus Limon were a married couple in their late fifties who had set up the hotel when they moved to the south of France almost thirty years before. The building was quaint despite being three storeys high with three acres of land surrounding it. On one side was an apple orchard and on the other a sandy beach.

As it was mid September, it was a few weeks after the holiday season ended, so Éponine and Enjolras were the only ones staying at the hotel. This made the Limons particularly eager to please them, and they were more than happy to give Enjolras and Éponine information on the town.

"If you go down the path at the front of the building, it'll lead you back into the village the way you came in," Marcus explained, "Feel free to have a wander in the apple orchard; we've heard it makes for a romantic daytime stroll." He smiled suggestively at the two, and Éponine grinned internally at the way his words made Enjolras look a little bit flustered.

"You don't think they... heard, last night, do you?" he asked quietly as they walked in the direction of the orchard hand-in-hand.

"Not a chance," Éponine said, "They live in the little cottage at the side of the hotel, anyway; they can't have heard us when we were up on the top floor."

The two spent their day wandering through the apple orchard, stopping under a tree for a picnic lunch. "This is nice," Éponine said, sighing contentedly, "Very nice. Why didn't we think of going away sooner?"

"Oh, well, you see, there was this issue, where you wouldn't leave the flat..." Enjolras said.

"Alright, alright, I've already apologised!" Éponine interrupted.

"I'm only teasing, Athena," Enjolras assured her, "And I completely understand why you felt like you did. Rest assured, the first chance I get, I will tear your father into a thousand pieces..."

"I don't think that's seen as appropriate in the eyes of the law," Éponine said, smirking.

"Hmm, true..." Enjolras smiled thoughtfully, "Maybe I'll just... ' _accidentally_ ' shoot him in the foot..."

"Accidentally?" Éponine said innocently.

"Of course!" Enjolras said, faking offence, "Surely you don't believe I would  _purposefully_  do such a thing?!" Resulting in the two breaking down laughing.

"Well, you'll need to reclaim your weapons from Courfeyrac first," Éponine said as they came out of their hysterics.

"He's just keeping them to annoy me now," Enjolras huffed, "He knows that I'm not going to kill Marius, and yet he still won't tell me where they are! I even tried bribing Gavroche, to no avail..."

It was the happiest they had been in what felt like years, and they were both glad to at last be fading into something like normality.

After their picnic, they made their way down to the beach, something that Éponine found particularly exciting.

"I haven't been on the beach since I was six years old," she explained when Enjolras questioned her excitement, "I was on holiday with my parents. Well, I say holiday... they were setting up an investment programme in another part of the country."

"An investment programme?" Enjolras asked sceptically.

"Yes," Éponine said rolling her eyes, "They were blackmailing some man who owed them a favour. They called it 'ensuring insurance' or something like that. I didn't tend to listen when I was that little."

When they reached the sand, Éponine practically ripped her boots off, throwing them onto the ground before racing to the sea. Despite it only being mid-September, the sea was freezing, but Éponine didn't care as she let it wash over her feet. Enjolras walked slowly down to join her after taking his boots off and rolling up the legs of his trousers.

"Your dress is getting wet." He commented as he moved to her side.

"Don't care!" Éponine sang, "We're on holiday!" Enjolras chuckled.

"You're very amusing on holiday, you know," he said, "You're a different person."

"It's the only time I can let go and have some childish fun without anyone judging me." Was the only answer Éponine offered him.

As Éponine stood with the sea coming just past her ankles, her eyes closed in contentment, Enjolras saw a golden opportunity that he just couldn't ignore.

The next thing Éponine knew, she was soaked from head to toe.

" _Enjolras_!" she shrieked, laughing due to the sheer shock of it, "Did you just splash me?!"

"Maybe," he said innocently, though it was all too obvious that he was hiding a smirk.

"You realise what this means, don't you?" Éponine asked, her voice deadly serious.

"Please enlighten me." He replied, equally as solemn.

"This. Means.  _War._ " Éponine said, using her hands to launch a tidal wave at Enjolras who stood gaping for a considerable amount of time afterwards.

"Oh, you want to play it  _that_  way, do you?!" he asked rhetorically, "Fine!"

As the two unleashed weeks of stress and responsibility on each other in the form of a water fight, they found themselves getting deeper into the sea, until, eventually, Éponine was on tiptoes and Enjolras could just about keep his feet flat on the sandy floor.

Éponine made her way over to Enjolras and wrapped her arms around his neck, "We should come to the beach more often," she stated.

"Perhaps, next time, it would be wise to not go all the way into the sea fully clothed, though," he said dryly. She chuckled, kissing him happily.

"But that would be sensible," she argued, "And holiday is not the right time to be sensible."

"That  _was_  the most fun I have had in a  _long_  time." Enjolras agreed.

"You... you've had fun  _before_?!" Éponine acted shocked.

"You're just reeling these insults off today, aren't you?" Enjolras said incredulously.

"You love me really," she said kissing him again.

"Yes, I do." He said immediately.

They stayed in the water until Éponine started shivering and Enjolras insisted that they returned to the hotel.

"You'll catch a cold if we stay out any longer," he said, "And it's difficult to enjoy your holiday when you're sick."

"Hélen and Marcus are going to think we're insane..." Éponine murmured, looking down at her dripping dress, "I'll  _never_  get this dress dry..."

"You're exaggerating," Enjolras said, "I, on the other hand, am  _never_  going to get all of this sand off my feet..."

"You are such a hypocrite!" Éponine exclaimed, laughing disbelievingly.

"You love me really," Enjolras mimicked her earlier words.

"Yes, I do." Éponine said, smiling as she hooked her arm around his.

They slowly walked back to the hotel, where they were met almost immediately by Hélen and Marcus, both of whom burst out laughing when they saw the pair.

"I remember when we were young like you two," Hélen said as Éponine and Enjolras smiled, "And I believe we did exactly the same thing. Cherish moments like this whilst you can." Éponine and Enjolras nodded at the two owners before making their way back up to their room.

"Would you say I was exaggerating if I say that that was the best day ever?" Éponine asked as she lay curled into Enjolras' side later that night.

"No," he murmured, "I'd agree with you."

The two fell asleep in the other's embrace, getting a better night's sleep than they had the night before (for the obvious reason that they were actually  _sleeping_  this time). For the first time in almost seven weeks, Éponine slept without being plagued by a nightmare, and Enjolras slept without the worry of his love being stolen from him. For the first time since before Éponine was attacked, the two could actually feel, without any doubt, that they were both as safe as safe could be.


	13. Family Isn't Just a Word

**What if Éponine and Azelma made up after the events in 'Sticks and Stones'?**

When Éponine and Enjolras returned home ten days later, they were still in high spirits. They intended to quickly dump their bags in their flat and then going down to the Musain to see their friends.

This all changed, however, when they made their way up to their apartment to find Azelma sitting outside.

"Azelma?" Éponine said, surprised, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh thank  _God_ ," Azelma said jumping up and throwing herself at Éponine, wrapping her arms around her sister's neck, "I thought they'd killed you! I honestly thought..."

Éponine frowned, hugging her sister back, "What  _are_  you talking about?" Éponine asked, "You thought who'd killed me?"

"Papa!" Azelma said, tears in her eyes, "Two months ago, when they ambushed you, I thought... Papa locked me up for weeks because I told Gavroche where to find you, and when I came out, then first thing I did was come here, but... you'd gone! I was going to ask Gavroche, but you know what he's like, I couldn't find him anywhere! Then I thought about going to that Marius guy, but-"

"Woah, woah, slow down," Éponine said looking utterly confused, "Why don't you come in and we can have tea and you can explain  _slowly_?" Azelma nodded, wiping away the tears that had fallen from her eyes.

"I'm just so glad you're alright," she said quietly as Enjolras unlocked the door.

"You know me, 'Zelma," Éponine said smiling, "I'm a tough one."

Enjolras left his and Éponine's bags in their bedroom as Éponine sat with her sister on the sofa. He busied himself with making the tea to give the sisters some privacy.

"Start from the beginning," Éponine told her sister, "Slowly, mind you." Azelma took a deep breath, though Éponine couldn't work out if her sister was stalling or just preparing herself for what she was going to say.

"On the day you were attacked, I... I told Papa the way you walk home from the cafe we went to," Azelma's voice was so quiet Éponine barely caught what her sister said.

"You... why?" Éponine asked, trying her best to not sound upset or angry.

"I had to, 'Ponine!" Azelma exclaimed, tears in her eyes again, "You know what he's like! I couldn't... He'd have killed me, Éponine. Gavroche thought I was being ridiculous, but... you should have seen him. He was positively  _murderous_. He had that look in his eyes, the one he has before he... unleashes his anger. He almost knocked me unconscious just for questioning him about it! If there were any way out of it, I wouldn't had told him, 'Ponine, I swear! I'm... I'm so sorry!" All anger Éponine had towards her sister evaporated as Azelma broke down completely, her head in her hands as she sobbed. Éponine wrapped Azelma in a hug, rubbing her back comfortingly.

"It's alright," Éponine said quietly, tears in her own eyes, "I know it's not your fault.  _I'm_  sorry, 'Zelma. I never should have left you there." Azelma shook her head firmly.

"Don't start, Éponine," she said, "You're happier now. I want that more than anything." Éponine wiped away a tea from her sister's cheek.

"Carry on with your story," she said quietly.

"Well, after I told Papa that you would be leaving from the cafe soon, he let me go, and I just couldn't bear it, so I sat on some steps and just... cried. I wanted to help you, but I didn't know how, and that just made everything worse. Then Gavroche found me and I told him what I'd done. He hates me, 'Ponine, I know he does! The look on his face when I told him that I'd told Papa... it was like I'd completely betrayed him. But he ran off before I could say sorry, so I made my way back home."

"Gavroche doesn't hate you, Azelma," Éponine said comfortingly, "He was just scared. I'm sure if you saw him again now he won't even remember it."Azelma shrugged.

"When I got home, Papa was in such a good mood that I just went to bed. But, the next evening, when he found out that you were still alive... he came straight to me. It took almost an hour of beating for me to tell him that I'd told Gavroche where you were... after that he just threw me in the back room and locked the door."

"Christ, Azelma!" Éponine exclaimed, "How long did he leave you in there?!"

"Up until about a week ago," Azelma shrugged, "He gave me food and everything. He actually gave me more than I usually get. I suppose he figured I'd be useful in the future so he'd better keep me alive."

"I'm sorry he did that to you," Éponine said quietly, "I wouldn't wish that on anyone, least of all my little sister!" Enjolras placed the tea on the table, bringing a chair over so that he could sit with Éponine and her sister.

"Are you alright, Azelma?" he asked, "Two months is a  _long_  time to be locked away..." She nodded, smiling slightly.

"I'm fine," she assured him, "It could have been worse... he could have killed me." Éponine sighed.

"You need to get out of there, Azelma," she said firmly, "Next time he might decide that you're not useful enough to keep."

"I've got nowhere to go," she said sadly, "And even if I did leave, it'd give him more of a reason to come after you, or Gavroche. I can't do that to you, or to myself. The guilt would eat away at me, knowing that I'd left you in that much danger." Enjolras smiled.

"You two are ridiculously alike," he said, sipping his tea. Éponine glared at him.

"When Papa finally let me out, he sent me out to bring some money in. He was distracted though... I don't know why. But I came straight here, looking for you, trying to find out if you were still alive. When I couldn't find you I panicked. I've been coming every day for the last week, checking if you were back yet, but you didn't come, until today. I couldn't find Gavroche anywhere to ask him where you were. I was sure you'd died and Enjolras had moved somewhere else." Éponine sighed.

"This is all such a mess," she said quietly, "I can't let you go back to him, 'Zelma. If he knows I'm alive, he'll come after me again, and he'll get you to help him. No, I won't put you in that position; it goes against everything Enjolras and I fight for."

"I told you, 'Ponine," Azelma said regretfully, "I've got nowhere to go."

"You can stay here," Enjolras said, shrugging, "We've got a spare room. And my parents have a few friends who might be willing to take you in long-term, if you wouldn't mind doing a few odd jobs." Azelma gaped at him.

"You... you'd do that? For me?" she asked, shocked beyond belief.

"Of course!" he said, placing his cup back on the table, "You're family, of sorts. And Éponine's right- it would go against everything I stand for if I let you go back to your parents." Azelma threw herself at Enjolras, hugging him gratefully. He chuckled, "You're very welcome, mademoiselle."

* * *

The three of them spent the rest of the day settling Azelma in. The younger girl snuck back to her parents' flat to grab her things, before getting back to Éponine and Enjolras' apartment as fast as she possibly could.

That evening, they all went to the Musain, Azelma feeling slightly awkward. When they entered, the first person Azelma spotted was Gavroche, though he had his back to her. Éponine went up and murmured in his ear, which made him turn around so quickly he almost fell over. When he caught sight of his other sister, he ran at her, hugging her tightly.

"I thought Papa had killed you for telling me," he said quietly. Azelma laughed with relief.

"I thought you hated me," she replied, "I suppose we were both wrong."

Everyone else tactfully ignored the scene; they all figured that the siblings could use a bit of time to get to know each other again.

"Did you enjoy your holiday?" Marius asked Éponine and Enjolras as they got themselves a drink.

"Very much so," Enjolras said smiling, "It was incredible to get away."

"The beach, in particular, was amazing," Éponine said, smiling knowingly at Enjolras who grinned back.

"I feel like we're missing something," Jehan murmured to Combeferre who nodded in agreement.

After he had cleared the air with his sister, Gavroche barely left Azelma and Éponine's sides all night, not being able to believe that he finally had both of his sisters back. Courfeyrac practically had to drag him away when everyone decided to go home.

Azelma disappeared into her room when they got home, bidding Éponine and Enjolras goodnight. The pair decided to follow her lead and got ready for bed; it had definitely been a long day.

"Thank you," Éponine murmured as they lay in bed, "You didn't have to do that for Azelma, but I'm so glad that you did."

" _We_  did it for her," Enjolras corrected her, "I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't sure that you'd be fine with it as well. I know how much you love your sister, 'Ponine." She smiled into the darkness.

"I had two other brothers, once," she said quietly, "Luc and Sebastien. Mama sold them to a couple before their first birthday for fifty francs each... do you think I'll ever find them again?"

"I think that you should never give up hope," Enjolras said, "There's always a chance, Athena." She smiled.

"I know," she said, before falling asleep, imagining the day when she found he brothers again and she was reunited with all of her siblings. That would certainly be an incredible day.


	14. Old, New, Borrowed, Blue

**What if Enjolras and Éponine had to suffer through Marius and Cosette's wedding?**

Azelma stayed in Éponine and Enjolras' flat for three weeks; during that time, Enjolras had spoken to a friend of his parents (a widow with four young children and not enough time to look after them). The woman had been more than happy to take Azelma in as a nursery maid, and Azelma was the perfect nanny for the children. They all adored her and she them, and the best part of the deal, in Éponine's eyes, was that the woman's house was on the opposite side of Paris: far away from Thénardier and the Patron-Minette.

"You'll be alright, won't you?" Éponine asked as she hugged her sister goodbye.

"Of course I will," Azelma assured her, "And it's not as if I'm moving to a different country, 'Ponine! I'm only the other side of the city."

"I know, I know," Éponine said, "But you'll write, won't you?"

"Yes, Éponine, I'll write," Azelma said, smiling at her sister, "You worry too much, sister of mine. But I suppose someone has to. You'll say goodbye to Gavroche for me?" Éponine nodded, hugging her sister again.

"Just... stay safe, Azelma. And tell me if you need anything, or if anything's wrong, or..." Enjolras laid a hand on Éponine's shoulder.

"She'll be fine," he said quietly. Éponine sighed, nodding as her sister climbed into the awaiting carriage.

"You'll have to come and meet Elena's children one day, Éponine," Azelma said grinning, "They're the sweetest things. I'll see you soon!" Éponine waved until the carriage was out of sight, leaning against Enjolras.

"She'll be fine." Éponine said firmly, trying to convince herself. Enjolras smiled.

"Yes, she will." He agreed.

* * *

A week later brought them to the day before Cosette and Marius' wedding, and Enjolras had woken up expecting a lot of things.

He had expected Marius to talk constantly about how amazing his wedding was going to be. He had expected Marius to talk constantly about how much he loved Cosette and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He had expected Grantaire to get well and truly, completely and utterly drunk out of his mind.

Éponine had woken up that morning expecting to be bored to death by Cosette's constant chatter regarding the final preparations for the wedding. She had expected to have to try on her Maid of Honour dress at least another thirty times 'just to make sure it's perfect'. She had expected to see practically nothing of her beloved Enjolras and be expected to keep completely quiet about it.

What neither of them had expected was to find Éponine throwing up in the bathtub.

"'Ponine?" Enjolras woke up to find Éponine's side of the bed empty. Hearing the not-so-pretty sound of Éponine's dinner making a reappearance, he climbed out of bed to find his beloved hanging over the side of the bath. Rushing to her, her pulled her hair out of her face with one hand and rubbed her back comfortingly with the other.

When she'd finished, Éponine fell back against Enjolras, panting slightly. He left her for a moment and got her some water.

"Thank you," she said quietly, leaning her head on his shoulder as he knelt down next to her.

"You know," he said, smirking slightly, "There are more convenient places to be sick than the bathtub, 'Ponine." He chuckled slightly, then noticed tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, and tear falling from the corner of her eye. Enjolras felt immediately guilty.

"Hey!" he said, wiping the tear away with his thumb, "I was joking! I was completely joking!" he pulled her into a hug.

"I know," Éponine sniffled, now crying into his chest, "I don't know what's wrong with me all of a sudden! I just feel... I feel awful!"

Enjolras frowned, leaning back, "You do look pale... maybe I should get Joly..."

"No, no," Éponine said, wiping her eyes, "I'll be fine. I'm sure it's nothing serious."

Enjolras looked at her, not believing a word she said, "You should at least miss the wedding..."

"Not a chance," she said firmly, standing up, "You and I both know that Cosette would  _never_  let me hear the end of it. And 'never' is a  _long_  time."

Enjolras smiled slightly, "If you're sure?"

"Completely sure." Éponine assured him, taking his hand and pulling him up, "Now, come on. I'm starving."

"I take it I'm cooking?" Enjolras asked, leading the way out of the bathroom.

"You know that I can't cook to save my life." Éponine said.

"Then it's just as well that I can," he said, kissing her lightly on the lips. Éponine smiled.

"Yes, it is," she agreed, before leaving him to cook whilst she got dressed.

* * *

Éponine couldn't shake the sickly feeling at all throughout the day, and it certainly wasn't helped by one of Cosette's maids tightening her corset as much as physically possible.

"Oh, Éponine," Cosette looked at Éponine in her Maid of Honour dress with tears in her eyes, "You look beautiful!"

Éponine forced a smile onto her face, "Thanks," she said, "Can I get out of this now?" Cosette nodded.

"I want to try my dress on, just one more time. Just to make sure..." she virtually skipped out of the room, leaving Éponine alone with the dreaded maid, who took  _hours_  (almost literally) to undo the back of the dress.

Éponine was practically gasping with relief by the time she had her own dress and considerably looser corset back on. She was more than happy to spend the rest of the day telling Cosette how amazing she looked in her bridal gown, and 'hmm-ing' and nodding whenever it was appropriate as Cosette ran through the plans for the day, all of which Éponine had heard at least a hundred times before.

*. . .*

Enjolras was not in much of a better state. Marius insisted on rewriting his vows and then his speech at least five times, and read it out at least ten times that. Enjolras' day consisted of very little else, as Marius wasn't one to bother too much about what he was wearing (although he did try reading his speech out whilst wearing his suit at one point 'just to make sure it works'). Enjolras had absolutely no doubt in his mind that Marius and Cosette were  _perfect_  for each other.

He finally met back up with Éponine in the Musain later that night, where everyone was gathering for Marius and Cosette's last night as an un-married couple.

"You wait, next year, there'll be a mini Marius or Cosette running through the streets," Courfeyrac grinned. Gavroche seemed rather against that idea.

"As long as it stays off my patch," he grumbled whilst sitting next to Éponine. She laughed quietly.

"I'm sure he or she will look up to you relentlessly, Gavroche."

"Right, we need more drinks," Grantaire stated, patting his hand on the table, "On me, seeing as I've got barely any money left and you'll all have to pay for me for the rest of the night anyway."

The night progressed steadily, and Grantaire got rather unsteadily drunk in the process, and so, by the looks of it, did everyone else. Even Enjolras had a drink or two, but not enough to either spill all his secrets or get into a fight this time.

It seemed to be only Éponine who went without, her first drink still sitting in front of her untouched after a few hours.

"Athena, Athena," Grantaire said, catching her attention, "Are you-" he paused to hiccup, "drinking that?" Éponine looked at it, felt a fresh wave of sickness fall over her, and shook her head, willing herself not to throw up all over the table. He shrugged, "Waste not, want not!" he downed the drink in one, then refilled it and downed that too.

Enjolras was getting increasingly worried about Éponine; she had barely spoken all night, was in a kind of daze, and hadn't had a single drink, which in itself was most unlike her. On top of that, she was still pale, and, frankly, she looked exhausted.

"Want to leave?" he murmured to her.

"More than anything I've ever wanted in my life." She replied immediately. Enjolras finished his drink and stood up, taking her hand.

"Okay, we're going home," he stated, picking up Éponine's coat and handing it to her.

"What?" Grantaire demanded, "It's barely even late!"

"But it is late, nonetheless, my friend," Enjolras chuckled, "And I have no ambition of facing a repeat of the last time you were so drunk you could barely stand."

"Do not  _lie_  to me, Apollo!" Grantaire said, waving a finger at him, "You enjoyed that... and  _so did everyone else!_ "

"Don't leave yet!" Marius said.

"We really do have to go...  _now_ ," Éponine said, trying to keep the desperation from her voice.

"Why?" Cosette asked, looking at them, begging them silently to stay.

"We wouldn't want to be late for the wedding tomorrow, would we?!" Enjolras said quickly. This seemed to satisfy both of them.

"Of course," Marius nodded understandingly.

"Bye, everyone," Enjolras called waving. Éponine joined him in waving goodbye but didn't say a word.

They walked home in near silence, hand in hand, until Éponine ran down an alley and threw up in someone's dustbin. Enjolras sighed worriedly, going to comfort her.

"Do you still insist that you're fine?" he questioned as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve.

"I'm fine enough," she stated, "I'm not dying."

"You're also not a doctor," he pointed out, "For all you know, you could be."

"I'm not dying." She repeated. He held his hands up in surrender.

"Fine," he said as she wrapped her arm in his and they continued on their walk home, "But if you're sick again, I'm getting Joly." Éponine rolled her eyes, but didn't say a word.

* * *

The next morning dawned bright and sunny, an unusual October morning. Whilst Éponine still looked slightly pale, she was a lot happier, and she had yet to empty her stomach of its contents.

Marius and Cosette had insisted that everyone be brought to the huge city hall in carriages in small groups. Éponine and Enjolras both found this ridiculous, as the hall was practically within walking distance, but agreed to do as their friends had asked for the sake of avoiding a tedious conversation.

Éponine and Enjolras ended up in a carriage with Courfeyrac, Combeferre and Gavroche, who was more than slightly annoyed with the fact that he had to wear a proper suit.

"Just put up with it, Gavroche," Courfeyrac said wearily, having already had the same conversation a thousand times since Marius had announced it, "It's only for a day."

"Only for a day until Enjolras and Éponine get married," Gavroche argued. The four adults looked at each other in surprise.

"Gavroche, we have no plans to get married any time soon!" Enjolras insisted, his cheeks slightly pink.

"Where on Earth did you get that idea?!" Éponine asked.

"It's obvious," he shrugged, "You love him, he loves you. Marriage is only..." he frowned, trying to think of the word, "Logical! It's only logical!"

The rest of the journey was spent in an awkward silence, Combeferre and Courfeyrac sending suggestive glances at each other every so often.

Éponine and Enjolras were separated when they arrived at the hall, Éponine going to help Cosette get ready and Enjolras going to make sure that Marius wasn't driving himself insane.

*. . .*

It was around lunchtime when the wedding actually took place. Cosette stood next to her father behind the bold white doors that would eventually open to reveal a room full of people who would bear witness to her marriage to Marius. Éponine stood behind, holding a small bouquet, handpicked by Éponine herself, who refused to let Cosette go overboard with silly things like flowers. She would have Enjolras by her side, when he finally emerged from Marius' suite.

When he did come out, he stopped short upon noticing Éponine in her dress. Desperately trying to stop himself from gaping, he walked forward to greet Cosette, kissing her hand and offering his congratulations, which she accepted graciously. He then came to stand beside Éponine, smiling uncontrollably.

"Do you remember when we went dancing, and I said that I should call you Aphrodite?" he asked quietly.

"Yes..." Éponine frowned, confused.

"Then, I wasn't being completely serious. Now... Aphrodite is definitely appropriate."

"It would be if I preferred it to Athena," Éponine smiled slightly, "But I don't. So Athena is what we're sticking with." Enjolras nodded as if to say 'of course', before the music starting up in the room beyond the doors interrupted their conversation.

The doors swung open, and Cosette and her father started making their way down the aisle, Éponine and Enjolras about five steps behind them. Passing their friends, they smiled, earning a lot of winks and grins from the Amis. Éponine spotted Gavroche saying something that looked suspiciously like 'I told you so' to Courfeyrac after he caught sight of her and Enjolras. She glanced warningly at him and he grinned madly back, fully confident in his hypothesis.

Once they'd reached the end of the aisle and the wedding started, it seemed to drag by. Éponine and Enjolras were stood on separate sides of the happy couple, both of them looking like they'd rather be anywhere else.

When the vicar finally pronounced Marius and Cosette man and wife, Éponine was unbelievably glad; she couldn't wait to sit down and eat something, her stomach unhappily empty seeing as they hadn't had time for breakfast. Cosette and Marius led the way out, followed by Éponine and Enjolras, and then everyone else soon after. They only had to cross the foyer of the building to reach the wedding reception, and everyone quickly took their seats (in a seating plan that Cosette had meticulously planned).

Éponine was also grateful for the facts that, firstly, she was sat on a round table with Enjolras on one side and Gavroche on the other, and secondly, the food was served before any of the speeches were made.

More than once she had to reprimand Gavroche for eating so quickly that it literally looked like he was just shoving more and more food into his mouth.

"I'm starving!" he protested, his mouth full of bread and cheese.

"So am I, but you don't see me eating like an animal, do you?" she said, "And don't speak with your mouth full." He swallowed.

"Sorry, 'Ponine," he muttered. She happened to glance at Enjolras on her left to find him smirking at her.

"Yes?" she questioned.

"You act like his mother," he said simply, "And I don't mean that in a bad way."

"Well, someone's got to take responsibility for him," she said, "He's hardly going to get that living with Courf, is he?" Enjolras laughed.

"That's true," he agreed. He glanced at her plate, "Are you just eating cheese?"

"Hmm," she ate another piece from her plate, "I fancied it, so I'm eating it. That tends to be how hunger works." He rolled his eyes.

"You have a strange concept of 'hunger'," he said.

*. . .*

The afternoon progressed into evening, when the tables were pushed back and band began to play. Cosette and Marius had their first dance, with everyone watching and 'aww-ing' every so often. Cosette then danced with her father, before the dance floor opened up to the Best Man and the Maid of Honour. Éponine had no ambition to dance, but Marius had specifically requested that the band play a waltz, simply so that Enjolras and Éponine couldn't refuse.

By the time the wedding finally ended, it was safe to say that many of the Amis were absolutely shattered. Grantaire was complaining that he hadn't drunk nearly enough, and that he'd have to break into his emergency stash of ale when he got home. Many of them, Enjolras and Éponine included, took this as an excuse to leave.

Marius and Cosette had left almost half an hour ago to go on their honeymoon, and so there really wasn't anything keeping any of them there. Walking back out to their waiting carriages, Courfeyrac was carrying a sleeping Gavroche, stating that weddings 'weren't Gavroche's thing'. Éponine had found that really quite hilarious.

Whilst Grantaire, Joly, Combeferre and Feuilly decided to go into the Musain for a few more drinks, Enjolras and Éponine made their way home, completely exhausted from having to deal with Marius and Cosette for two consecutive days.

They barely had the energy to get changed out of their wedding outfits before collapsing into bed, falling asleep in each other's arms, thinking that their wedding day was definitely a long way away from now. They really were a lot of work, and neither of them could be bothered with that.

Not just yet anyway.


	15. The Little Things in Life

**What if Gavroche was living with Enjolras and Éponine?**

It was now early November and, with the university term ending in three weeks, many of the Amis were having to busy themselves with revision for their upcoming exams.

This didn't, however, stop them from gathering in the Musain one Thursday evening to welcome Marius and Cosette back to France after their two week honeymoon in England.

"'Ponine," Courfeyrac caught Éponine's attention as she stood by the bar in the Musain.

Éponine smiled a hello, "Where's Gavroche?" she asked, looking around for the boy who was normally Courfeyrac's shadow.

Shortly after the barricades in June, when Éponine moved in with Enjolras, Courfeyrac had asked her how she'd feel about Gavroche moving in with him, permanently. Éponine had been ridiculously thankful, and she would be eternally grateful to Courfeyrac for giving Gavroche a home off the streets. Gavroche, of course, had been reluctant at first; he had several younger children on the streets to look after, after all. However, Courfeyrac promised the gamin that they would visit his friends, taking them food and blankets and anything else they'd need whenever they needed it. This had won the little boy over, and he was having the time of his life living with his best friend.

"He's trying to beat Grantaire in an arm wrestle," Courfeyrac grinned, "Gavroche is winning. I was wondering if I could ask a favour?"

"Ask away," Éponine gestured for him to go ahead, taking a sip of her wine.

"I've got my final exams coming up in a few weeks, and I really need some time to revise properly, without any distractions. Problem is, with Gavroche running around with energy that apparently appears out of nowhere..."

"You'll never get anything done?" Éponine finished for him, nodding, "I'll talk to Enjolras. We've got two spare rooms, so it shouldn't be too hard to have Gavroche with us for a few weeks." She smiled, her eyes twinkling.

"Oh, 'Ponine, you're a life saver!" Courfeyrac grinned madly, wrapping Éponine in a hug that lifted her off her feet.

"Really, Courf, it's not a problem," Éponine laughed as he put her down.

"What's not a problem?" Enjolras asked, coming over from watching Gavroche win an arm wrestle with Grantaire.

"Gavroche can stay with us for a few weeks, can't he?" Éponine asked, fixing him with a look that left no room for debate. Enjolras smirked.

"The next few weeks certainly won't be boring," he said. Éponine took that as a confirmation and smiled at Courfeyrac.

* * *

"This is your room," Éponine smiled, steering Gavroche towards the smaller of the two guestrooms by the shoulders.

"I don't see why I can't just stay with Courf," he grumbled, "I'll be really quiet! Honest I will, 'Ponine!"

"I'm starting to think that you don't like me and Enjolras, 'Vroche." Éponine laughed.

"I do!" Gavroche protested hastily, "I just... I don't want to intrude! You're happy with him, 'Ponine, I don't want to butt in and ruin that."

"You won't ruin it, silly!" Éponine frowned, wondering where on Earth he'd got that idea from, "And you're not intruding. Now, come on, I'm starving. Let's go and bug Enjolras until he cooks us something!"

Enjolras was also studying, though his final exams were still months away, so he wasn't too worried about interruptions.

"Apollo..." Éponine said, smiling, looking at Enjolras with a pleading look in her eyes.

"What do you want, Athena?" he said knowingly, recognising the tone Éponine always used when she wanted something.

"Food, please." She smiled. He rolled his eyes, pulling her onto his lap.

"And if I don't want to make any food?" Enjolras asked, his arms wrapped around Éponine's waist. He was answered by a pillow being launched at his head and it hitting him square in the face. Éponine covered her mouth with her hand to try and disguise her laughter as Gavroche looked on proudly form the sofa.

"Did you just start a pillow war?" Enjolras said seriously. Gavroche's grin faltered for a moment, then he mirrored Enjolras' stoic look.

"Maybe I did." He said, crossing his arms determinedly. Pushing Éponine off his lap gently, Enjolras stood up and approached Gavroche, the pillow hidden behind his back. Gavroche edged back on the sofa slightly.

In a single fluid movement, Enjolras slammed the pillow down onto the top of Gavroche's head and ducked for cover.

Within five minutes, the apartment was littered with pillows from both the living room and the bedrooms, with Gavroche hiding behind the sofa, and Enjolras hiding behind the dining table. Éponine had long since disappeared, and neither Enjolras, nor Gavroche, had any idea where she had gone.

"Surrender, little Gavroche. You will never defeat me! Have you forgotten that I led a rebellion?"

"I may be little," Gavroche grinned menacingly, "But little people know how to fight. And we  _never_  give up!" he then proceeded to launch yet another pillow at the revolutionary.

When Éponine finally returned, the pillow fight had resulted to hand-to-hand combat.

"No! No... Enjolras!  _Enjolras_!  _Stop tickling me_!"

"Not until you surrender!" Enjolras laughed evilly.

"I see you two are having fun," Éponine said, smiling amusedly at the scene. They both looked up and froze. Éponine was standing in the doorway with a bowl of soup that had apparently appeared from nowhere.

"Don't tell me you've been making soup this whole time?!" Enjolras said, springing into a standing position.

"Don't be ridiculous," Éponine laughed, stirring the soup absentmindedly, "I walked to the cafe around the corner. I told them I'd bring the bowl back when I'd checked that my brother and my beloved hadn't torn my home apart. I think she was a bit worried, to be honest..."

"Why soup?" Gavroche frowned, also getting up, "You could have got a cake or something!"

"I wanted soup!" Éponine said, ruffling Gavroche's blonde curls fondly, "Have we finished acting like children?"

"That's not fair!" Gavroche complained, "I  _am_  a child!"

Enjolras blushed slightly, then shrugged, "Oh, I don't care if I acted like a child," he said, wrapping his arm around Éponine's waist, "I had fun."

Éponine looked at him with wide eyes, "Enjolras? Having fun?! Good lord... Gavroche, I think you've broken him..."

"I happen to know that you're ticklish as well, 'Ponine." Enjolras muttered in her ear threateningly.

"You wouldn't dare," Éponine replied, kissing him as a way of both bribery and apology. He smiled slightly, so Éponine decided that she was forgiven.

However, walking over to the dining table and fully evaluating the mess in the room, Enjolras and Gavroche were definitely  _not_  forgiven.

"I hope you two are going to clear this up," she said sternly. Enjolras and Gavroche shared a look.

"Run?" Enjolras questioned.

"Run!" Gavroche agreed, and the two bolted out the still open front door, leaving an exasperated Éponine behind them.

* * *

Later that night, Les Amis de l'ABC were meeting to discuss what to do about the government's lack of action.

"I say we hold another rebellion," Grantaire (still almost sober) said, grinning.

"I don't think there's any need for that just yet, Grantaire," Combeferre said sensibly, "Let's not forget what happened last time."

"What? Enjolras actually became human and we won? Yes, wouldn't it be tragic for that to happen again!"

"I was always human," Enjolras said wearily, even though he knew that it would fall on deaf ears.

"We can't risk doing that again," Combeferre argued, "Think about how many casualties we had. Éponine almost died, for goodness sakes! Does anyone want to risk that again?" the room was silent, so Enjolras nodded, retaking control of the conversation.

"I agree with Combeferre," he said, earning a scoff from Grantaire, " _But_  I also agree with Grantaire in the respect that something has to be done."

"So what  _are_  we going to do?"

"I'm going to write a letter," Enjolras said, "They approached me first, so I'll reply saying we are still expecting a change. If I don't get a reply... then we go up to see them in person." This earned a cheer from the Amis, and Éponine looked on proudly.

The meeting had started in the very early evening and was arguably one of the shortest meetings they had ever been to.

Gavroche, tired after his 'battle' against Enjolras, could barely keep his eyes open whilst eating dinner back in Enjolras and Éponine's apartment, and so Éponine sent him to bed.

"'Ponine," Gavroche stopped his sister as she was leaving the room after saying goodnight, "Thank you. For letting me stay here."

"It's not a problem, 'Vroche," Éponine replied fondly, "What's family for?" smiling, Gavroche snuggled down into the blankets and fell asleep.

Éponine walked out into the living area to find Enjolras setting the table.

"What's all this?" she asked.

"You wanted me to cook," he said, "So I cooked." Éponine smiled fondly.

"You didn't have to do that," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I wanted to," he said, "After all, it's what 'humans' do, isn't it?" Éponine laughed.

"You should know better than to listen to Grantaire's jibes," she said, rolling her eyes, "He likes you really, beneath all the teasing and drunkenness."

"Hmm," Enjolras said sceptically, "Well, I look forward to seeing the day when he proves it."

Éponine thought back to when Grantaire had been teaching her how to dance. Really, that had been for Enjolras' sake; Grantaire wouldn't have cared if  _Éponine_  had made a fool of herself, after all.

Enjolras poured them both some wine, "To cooking," he smiled, "And the future." He said, holding his cup up for a toast. Éponine was more than happy to toast to that.

* * *

When the few weeks that consisted of Gavroche's stay were up, however, Gavroche found himself torn. Because, as much as he loved living with Courfeyrac, he had had the best time staying with Éponine and Enjolras.

"'Ponine?" he said quietly as she helped him pack his things back into the little bag he had brought with him, "I... I don't think I... I don't want to go." He sounded completely and utterly ashamed of himself; he _knew_  that, in a way, he was betraying Courfeyrac. But being back with his sister just felt...  _right_.

Éponine stopped packing and turned to look at her brother, "What do you mean?" she asked, taking his hand and sitting down on the bed next to him.

"Well, I love living with Courfeyrac, really I do, but... living with you and Enjolras... it's like we're a proper family. And... I like that." Éponine smiled at her brother.

"It's okay if you want to stay here, 'Vroche," she told him, "Really it is. But... are you  _sure_? I know how much you love Courfeyrac... he's like a big brother to you." Gavroche sighed.

"I know..." he said, "I don't know. I want to live with  _both_  of you!" Éponine looked thoughtful.

"Maybe we could work something out..." she said, "Come on. Let's go and find Courf and Enjolras."

*. . .*

And, thus, after a surprisingly small amount of discussion, Gavroche had two homes; he would alternate living with Courfeyrac and Éponine and Enjolras; one week with one, the next with the other.

Gavroche was more than happy with this arrangement.

"I feel like all we ever do is provide accommodation for my siblings," Éponine murmured to Enjolras as Gavroche left with Courfeyrac.

Enjolras shrugged, "I quite like it." He said, smiling. Éponine frowned.

"You...  _like_  children?" she asked, doing her best to sound shocked.

"I like your siblings," he corrected her, "Besides, can't you see us with a child of our own, one day?" Éponine shrugged.

"Maybe," she said, "Not in the near future though."

"No, I agree," Enjolras said quietly, "My parents would be most unimpressed if we had a child before we got married..." Éponine smirked, putting her arms around his neck.

"Maybe we should have a baby soon after all..." she said quietly. Enjolras rolled his eyes at her, his arms around her waist.

"Sometimes I think it's your mission in life to annoy everyone," he said, smiling.

Éponine smiled sarcastically, "And there I was thinking it was a secret..."


	16. The Pitter-Patter of Little Feet

**What if Éponine was pregnant with Enjolras' baby?**

Éponine bolted upright in bed, the all-too-familiar sickly feeling that hadn't plagued her for almost three weeks back with a vengeance.

She leapt out of bed, leaving behind a rather confused Enjolras, rushing to the bathroom and throwing up in the bathtub once again.

 _Not again_ , she thought to herself, desperately trying to stop her lunch from following her dinner in the bath- apparently, she was trying in vain.

Gavroche, his room right next door to the bathroom, appeared in the doorway, "'Ponine?" he rubbed some sleep out of his eyes, "Are you okay?" Éponine just nodded trying to catch her breath back. Enjolras appeared next to Gavroche in the doorway, a concerned look on his face.

"Give that to Éponine when she's feeling a bit better, Gavroche," he said, passing the little boy a cup of water, "I'm going to get Joly."

"Don't you dare." Éponine said, glaring at him out of the corner of her eye, not trusting herself to leave the side of the bath just yet.

"Combeferre, then!" Enjolras exclaimed, "I told you 'Ponine, if you were sick one more time-"

"That was weeks ago!" Éponine protested, "This is probably a completely unrelated incident!"

"'Probably' being the operative word," Enjolras muttered darkly, "I'll be back in ten minutes."

"Have I ever told you that you annoy me immensely?!" Éponine called angrily after him.

"Yes." Enjolras called back simply, getting changed quickly before heading out the door.

As the front door closed quietly, Gavroche went to sit on the floor next to Éponine. After five minutes of not throwing up, Éponine trusted herself to turn around and sit next to him properly, her back leaning on the edge of the bathtub. Gavroche silently handed her the cup of water Enjolras had left him with and Éponine took it gratefully.

"Thanks, 'Vroche," she said quietly.

"Why were you sick 'Ponine?" Gavroche asked her worriedly, "You're never sick!"

"Everyone gets sick  _sometimes,_  Gavroche," Éponine told him, laughing quietly, "And to tell you the truth... I don't know."

"Then why is Enjolras getting Joly a bad thing?" Gavroche questioned, "It could be serious, Éponine!"

"I doubt that," Éponine frowned, "I was only sick twice! And then again just now... that's virtually nothing at all, let alone anything 'serious'."

"You still should have gone to see Joly," Gavroche grumbled, his arms crossed stubbornly across his chest.

"Oh should I? How many times were you sick when you were living out on the streets, 'Vroche? Did you go and see Joly every time you got ill?" Gavroche just frowned at her, "That's what I though." Éponine nodded triumphantly.

"You're not me, though," Gavroche argued, "You're  _older_. You're _supposed_  to be responsible. You're always telling me to do what you say, and to do what Courfeyrac says, but why should I listen to you when you don't even take yourself seriously?" Éponine sighed, partly because she was exhausted and her little brother was getting on her nerves, but partly because she knew that Gavroche was right.

"You're right," she said quietly, "And, I'll tell you what, Gav... I should have talked to Joly, or Combeferre. But, I'm scared, and I'm a grown-up: grown-ups are good at finding reasons not to do the things they don't want to do." Gavroche rolled his eyes.

"I'm never growing up," he muttered, "It sounds boring.  _And_  stupid."

Enjolras returned a few minutes later with Combeferre as opposed to Joly.

"I couldn't even find Joly," Enjolras shrugged, "Apparently he likes to go for walks in the middle of the night... So I brought Combeferre instead."

"And I still fully support the fact that there is absolutely no need for me to see a doctor." Éponine said, standing up and walking past Enjolras and Combeferre to put her cup back in the kitchen.

"That's not what you said a minute ago!" Gavroche protested.

"Grown-up, remember?" Éponine retorted, causing her brother to clamp his mouth shut defiantly, sending his sister a death glare.

"Why not let me be the judge of whether or not you need to see a doctor?" Combeferre said, looking at her with a face that clearly said 'I'm your friend, now sit down, shut up and let me help you'. Éponine glared at him,

"Because there's nothing wrong with me!" she said firmly, "Nothing serious, anyway. I probably just... ate some bad meat. You never  _can_  really trust the people at the market..."

"Athena," Enjolras sighed wearily, "You are being ridiculously stubborn."

"Nothing different to normal, then," Combeferre muttered.

"I resent that." Éponine said firmly, pointing an accusing finger at Combeferre.

"Then stop acting like a child!" Combeferre told her.

"According to her, she's acting like a grown-up," Gavroche said, smirking. Éponine frowned at him.

"You wait until the next time you want my help," she told him, "I will do absolutely nothing and I will laugh at whatever unpleasant experience you're submitted to." Gavroche poked his tongue out at her, flopping onto the sofa.

"I want to help you, Éponine," Combeferre said pleadingly, "Please, for once just... let me?"

Éponine sighed, defeated, "Fine," she said. Combeferre grinned happily, whereas Enjolras' face was arranged in a kind of relieved smile. She glared at the two of them, walking through to the bedroom leaving Gavroche on the sofa, already drifting back to sleep.

"So, how many times have you been sick?" Combeferre asked as Éponine sat down on the bed, her face settled into an indignant frown.

"Twice," she said.

"Actually it was four times," Enjolras corrected her, "Once the morning before Marius and Cosette's wedding, then twice that night, and then again this morning." Éponine flicked him a glare as Combeferre nodded.

"Any other symptoms, at all?" he asked, "Headaches? Dizziness?"

"I've had a few headaches," Éponine admitted, "Only small ones though. Not bad enough to even be considered annoying. The only times I've felt dizzy is just after I've been sick, and it was only for a couple of seconds."

Combeferre frowned almost thoughtfully, "Have you been more tired recently?"

"Slightly..." Éponine said, "But if you'd had to deal with Cosette as much as I have recently, you'd be tired too."

"Unexplainable and unexpected changes of emotion?" with this question he turned to Enjolras; said man's cautious glance at Éponine to avoid an unwanted angry reaction (a very real possibility) was enough to answer Combeferre's question.

"And, just a stab in the dark here, but... have you been craving certain foods? Either basic things in large quantities or foods that you wouldn't normally eat?"

Éponine frowned again, "Well, I wouldn't call it  _craving_..."

"You ate a plate of cheese at Marius and Cosette's wedding," Enjolras said amusedly, "Just cheese. A plate full of cheese." Combeferre was starting to grin uncontrollably.

"Well, 'Ponine," he said, "From the information you've given me, and without a physical exam, I can make a reasonably safe presumption when I say... you're pregnant."

Éponine's jaw dropped as his words sunk into her brain.  _She was **what**?!_

"No, that's... that's impossible. I... I can't be!" Éponine said disbelievingly, "We said we weren't ready, we said we weren't going to try..."

"But you two did, you know...  _do it_ , didn't you?" Combeferre asked awkwardly, turning to Enjolras.

"Yes! Yes..." Enjolras said hurriedly, rubbing his eyes wearily, equally as shocked as Éponine, "We did, but..."

"Then... it  _is_  possible," Combeferre shrugged, "You two should be happy! A baby is a blessing, after all. A little baby, all to yourselves..." A thump behind the two men caught their attention. The two turn around to find Éponine passed out on the floor.

The two rushed to her side, Combeferre smirking slightly, "I think she took it well!" Enjolras glared at him, shaking Éponine’s shoulders.

"She said she wasn't ready," he murmured to his friend, searching for guidance from Combeferre's experience-gained common sense, "She doesn't  _want_  a baby... what do I do?!" Combeferre thought about his words before he spoke again; it had been many weeks since he had last seen Enjolras this shaken up; the last time had been when he returned from taking Éponine to the hospital when she was injured on the barricade.

"You support her, whatever her decision about the baby might be," he said finally, "And, for the record, Enjolras... thinking she's not ready and not  _wanting_  the baby are two very different things."

"I don't know if  _I'm_  ready to be a father, 'Ferre," he said, taking Éponine's hand in his as she started to stir, "A  _baby_ , a child of my own... how do you get used to that idea?!"

"I'm not the person to ask, mon ami," Combeferre said quietly, "What I do know is that you and Éponine will get through it together."

"Enjolras?" Éponine's voice immediately caught the leader's attention.

"Are you alright?" he asked cautiously. She nodded, then her eyes widened.

"I'm having a baby," she said, her words slow, as if she was trying to get used to the idea just by saying it.

Enjolras smiled slightly, " _We're_  having a baby," he corrected her gently. She pushed herself into a sitting position, Enjolras' hand on her elbow, steadying her. She let one of her own hands land on her stomach, a look of wonder and pure, undeniable fear in her eyes.

"There's a little person growing inside me," she murmured, "A little person who is me and you. What... how..." she faltered, looking to Enjolras desperately. Enjolras' heart almost broke in two at the look on her face; he hated to see Éponine in a way that wasn't how he knew her. The woman in front of him was petrified and confused, so different from the all-knowing and confident Athena he knew so well.

"Come on," Combeferre said, helping Éponine to her feet, "I think we need some tea."

* * *

"Are you sure?" Éponine asked Combeferre as Enjolras set a mug down on the table in front of her, "Are you sure I'm pregnant?"

"Not completely," Combeferre admitted, "It's not my area of expertise, and I'm not  _technically_  qualified yet... but all of your symptoms point to pregnancy, especially with the... events that transpired on your holiday."

"Alright, that's the second time it's been mentioned, I think that's enough now." Enjolras said firmly, his cheeks slightly pinker than usual.

"Why?!" Gavroche asked, confused, "What happened when you were away?!"

"Nothing, Gavroche," Éponine said quickly, "You'll learn about it when you're older."

"I'm as sure as I can be," Combeferre interrupted, not wanting to be present when Gavroche experienced  _that talk_ , "You should probably see another doctor to confirm it. And I'd advise against going to Joly... he'll probably convince himself that you have some kind of deathly stomach ulcer or something..." this made Enjolras chuckle quietly.

"Thank you, Combeferre," he said to his friend, "For all your help. I'm sorry for getting you up in the middle of the night."

"My pleasure," he said moving towards the door, "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going back to bed; it's still dark outside, and that means I should be asleep. Oh, and," he smiled slightly as he paused at the door, "Congratulations."

As the door was closed quietly, Éponine stared in her mug, stirring her tea absentmindedly. Enjolras caught her downhearted expression and sighed almost inaudibly.

"This isn't the end of the world, 'Ponine," Enjolras took her hand in his, stroking it comfortingly with his thumb. She was silent for a while longer before speaking again.

"I... I don't think I'm ready for a baby, Enjolras," she said quietly.

"Well... we've got months to get used to it. And if we can't handle it, then we'll deal with it. But, we're in this together 'Ponine. No matter what."

Gavroche looked up, something that looked very much like a proud smirk on his face. "You'll be fine, 'Ponine," he insisted confidently, "You two, you'll find a way. You'll be the best parents there's ever been. Because you two love each other, and you'll always put love first. And that's what every baby needs. So stop talking about not being ready. You're going to have this baby and it's going to be the happiest child that's ever lived."

Éponine looked at her brother and smiled slightly. "You know, Gavroche," she smiled a little more, "And it truly does hurt me to say this... you're probably right."

Enjolras smiled gleefully, getting up to wrap Éponine in a hug. Éponine smiled happily, hugging him back.

"I wasn't aware that you were so desperate to be a father, Apollo." She murmured fondly, leaning her head on his shoulder and truly enjoying being in his embrace.

"I wasn't," he replied, "Until now. Now... I don't want anything more."

Gavroche made a face, "Please don't start getting all... mushy."

"Mushy?!" Enjolras exclaimed resentfully. Gavroche grinned.

"Go back to bed, Gavroche," Éponine smiled, "It's the middle of the night. You need your sleep."

Gavroche frowned, but complied. "Try not to make any more babies whilst I'm asleep." Using his favourite weapon, Enjolras launched a pillow at Gavroche, who dodged it expertly, laughing hysterically as he raced into his bedroom.

"We'll be alright won't we?" Éponine asked worriedly as Gavroche's bedroom door swung shut.

"I don't know, 'Ponine," Enjolras said honestly, "I've never been a father before. Before I met you, I never once thought I'd have a child of my own. But we've got friends around us to help, we've got common sense, and we've got each other. That's all we  _really_  need, isn't it?" Éponine smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder again.

"I love you," she said, hoping that answered his question. Enjolras smiled.

"I love you too," he said, hoping that she understood that it did.

* * *

The next evening, Éponine and Enjolras entered the Musain to wide grins from many of the Amis. They looked around at them, confused by their friends' looks. Courfeyrac, taking a much needed break from last minute revision, was the first to speak.

"I, umm... hear congratulations are in order?" he tried to disguise his smirk. Éponine and Enjolras looked between Gavroche and Combeferre, not sure which of the two to blame. However, when both looked slightly guilty, Éponine groaned.

"In our defence," Combeferre said, "You never told us to keep it a secret."

"No, because, apparently, using common sense is too difficult!" Enjolras argued.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry," Combeferre groaned, and Gavroche nodded in agreement, "We were excited for you, that's all! And everyone else is too!"

Éponine and Enjolras looked around at their friends, all of whom nodded to confirm what Combeferre was saying. Éponine smiled.

"Well, thank you, everyone," she said, "It means a lot. Really it does."

Grantaire, arguably way too drunk, called out loudly, "I propose a toast," he slurred, "To the sound of little footsteps running around." Éponine and Enjolras were handed cups (Éponine's only containing water at her request) and the group toasted to a future that involved a little Enjolras or a little Éponine running around the streets of Paris.


	17. The Clouds of High Society

**What if Enjolras and Éponine had to break the news of Éponine's pregnancy to Marius and Cosette?**

Almost four months into her pregnancy, and Éponine's bump was just starting to form. The sickness had finally stopped (after a further two weeks of throwing up into whatever large container was available at the time and place), and Éponine could finally enjoy that fact that she was actually going to have a baby.

Enjolras was a new man, and was even more protective of Éponine that usual (but, being the clever person that he was, he was careful about it and always gave Éponine space when she needed it- normally when she was in the middle of a particularly violent mood swing).

After a few of the Amis found out about their little surprise from Combeferre and Gavroche, Enjolras and Éponine were faced with the rather daunting task of breaking the news to the easily-excitable Cosette and Marius; a task that both of them knew would involve a lot of squealing, hugging and general over-reactions.

Marius and Cosette had been rather secretive after their wedding, only ever turning up to the Musain when a meeting had been scheduled, and otherwise sticking to themselves. It had been months since Éponine had been out for lunch, or on a shopping trip with Cosette, and, as much as she hated to say it, she missed the girl's mindless chatter about things of little importance.

The Amis had almost scolded Éponine and Enjolras on the fact that they still hadn't told their best friends about the baby, but the truth of it was that they hadn't seen their friends at a time suitable enough to break the news. So, tired of waiting for the moment, Éponine and Enjolras decided to create it, and went to visit them where they knew they would be.

Visiting the house Marius and Cosette lived in with Cosette's father, Enjolras took Éponine's hand and squeezed it comfortingly before knocking on the front door. Cosette's father answered it and smiled, before letting the two in and calling through to Cosette and Marius.

"Cosette! Éponine and Enjolras are here!" he then turned to said visitors, "They're in the sitting room. Go straight through, they won't mind." Before disappearing into another part of the house.

"This house just reminds me of that bloody wedding," Éponine muttered, "And Cosette's darling maid who apparently wanted to squeeze every last little bit of breath out of me..."

"Well, at least they'll never get married again," Enjolras pointed out, smiling slightly at Éponine's glowering face; he didn't care how cliché it was, Éponine looked adorable when she was angry or annoyed.

"Éponine!" Cosette smiled happily as Éponine and Enjolras entered the sitting room where she was sitting on the sofa with Marius, "This is an unexpected surprise!" Cosette wrapped Éponine in a not-completely-welcome hug, the latter of the two still holding Enjolras' hand. The revolutionary leader tried not to call out in pain as Éponine's grip on his hand tightened considerably.

"Yes, well, we, er... we have some news." Éponine said as Cosette released her.

"Good news, I hope?" Marius questioned, getting up and shaking Enjolras' other hand.

"Well, we think so," Enjolras told him.

"Please, take a seat," Cosette said, sitting back down in her previous seat and gesturing to the sofa opposite them. Sitting room in the house that Cosette was now living in really made Éponine think about her own life; was this how Cosette had lived all of her life? Would Éponine have wanted to live like that? Certainly, she would have wanted to as the spoiled brat of a child she had once been, but the struggles she had had to face in the years in which her parents lost all their money certainly made her appreciate the little things.

"You see the thing is..." Éponine wondered if she should just come out and say it. She had planned the speech in her head on the way over, but now she was faced with the task of actually telling her friends the news, her mind had gone blank.

Seeing Éponine hesitate, Enjolras took over, "We're expecting." Cosette and Marius looked at them a little blankly.

"Expecting what?" Marius asked, frowning.

 _Dear Lord,_  Éponine thought,  _how did Marius ever get into university?!_

"A baby," Éponine clarified, smiling at Enjolras happily. Because she was happy about it now, incredibly so, all worries long since forgotten. 

Enjolras had been incredible in regards to putting up with her when she had felt down or annoyed for no reason. Combeferre and Joly had advised both of them to give each other space sometimes so as not to 'dig the hole even deeper', so to speak. It seemed to be working a lot of the time, but Éponine found herself missing Enjolras when she was in a bad mood and he had decided to follow Joly and Combeferre's advice.

She made a mental note to tell Enjolras about it later, before actually paying attention to Cosette and Marius' reactions. Cosette was gaping at them, looking pleasantly surprised, and Marius just looked extremely confused.

"But... you two aren't even...  _married_  yet." He said, looking really quite baffled. Enjolras frowned.

"Yes, we're quite aware of that, Marius," he said, "But sometimes these things can't be helped."

"Well, I'm happy for you." Cosette said decidedly, "It's nice that you still want to look after the baby as partners as opposed to a married couple."

"Well, we actually haven't spoken about getting married yet," Éponine said, "It could happen in the near future, it might not. We just want to face every day as it comes."

"What'll you do about the revolution, if you have a baby on the way?" Marius asked Enjolras, "What if it gets in the way of the cause?"

"I plan to be dedicated to both the revolution and my child," Enjolras said, getting slightly annoyed at the way Marius was talking; it was if Enjolras and Éponine were just common people who had no respect for the customs of their standard of life, "And I'm sure  _he or she_  will be an asset to the country and will also believe in our cause the way I do."

Marius shrugged, "It's just you were always talking about distractions before the rebellion last June," he said, "Now you've got distractions popping up all over the place!"

"Marius, have you and Cosette talked about having a child yet?" Éponine asked, her voice quiet but firm.

"No, we haven't, we thought we'd just enjoy married life for a while before-"

"Then please refrain from calling our baby a 'distraction', or an 'it', or 'something that will get in the way'. I still haven't returned the favour from when your drunken self decided to talk about me in a way that left Enjolras screaming for his weapons. What happened to the Marius who wouldn't take a franc if he hadn't earned it? Because you seem to have become very materialistic and, frankly, you're a bit up in the high society. So, please, think about what you say before you say it." And with that, Éponine stood up, took Enjolras' hand once more and left the room.

"I'll see you soon, Cosette," she called behind her on her way out, "And please explain to Marius the importance of not making yourself look like a prat to your best friends."

When the two left the house, Enjolras was gaping at her, his eyes wide.

"Can I help you, monsieur?" Éponine giggled, "You look as if you'll explode if you don't say what you're obviously dying to."

"You just... did you... that was incredible," he said, "Absolutely incredible. I was worried about asking you if you'd agree to come with me to tell my parents, but after that... I will beg you to put my mother in her place the second she questions our relationship. Please?" Éponine laughed.

"You want me to meet your parents?" she asked, feigning surprise, "But, Enjolras... we're not even married yet! Are you sure our relationship is ready for this?" the two burst out laughing at Éponine's jibe towards Marius, "Of course I'll come. I daren't leave you to tell them alone, I might never see you again!"

Éponine had heard all about the fact that Enjolras was the only child of two extremely upper-class parents who looked down on anyone who lived or had ever lived in anywhere that wasn't at least a three story house. They originally funded his lessons at university because Enjolras had never told him about his beloved revolution and never planned to.

However, with the amount of noise and fuss he'd made to get people to join his cause, word of the rebellion reached his parents. The result was an angry argument, which ended in Enjolras exclaiming that his parents didn't have to like it, but the rebellion was happening anyway. They had come to a grudging truce and hadn't spoken about it properly since.

"I don't have to pretend to be some... rich bourgeois girl, do I?" she asked him as they made their way home.

"Oh, Christ, no!" he exclaimed, "I'd hate for you to be anyone but you. You're the Éponine I fell in love with after all."

"I think I've changed," she told him casually, "Not necessarily in a bad way," she added hurriedly as she saw that Enjolras was about to argue, "I'm certainly a lot happier in myself, and who I am. I'd  _never_  have spoken to Marius like that before the rebellion."

"Before you came to your senses, you mean," Enjolras teased. Éponine shoved him lightly.

"But on the other hand... I feel like I'd never be able to cope with living on the streets anymore. I'd become so streetwise, growing up with my sorry excuse for a family, and now all of that seems to have just disappeared. Not that I can say the same for Gavroche. He's practically itching to climb in his elephant for a night or two every week. Courfeyrac's forbidden it; says it's not safe. 'Vroche begged me to let him go for a few nights that first week he was staying with us."

"He confuses me," Enjolras muttered, "Not just in a bad way though. He has spirit, I can say that for sure."

"What a nice way if putting it," Éponine laughed, "But I think what you really mean to say is that he's completely crazy and he's the type of person who would laugh in the face of a gun, whether he thought that the person behind it would shoot him or not."

"That is... scarily accurate," Enjolras told her, smiling slightly, "But that's beside the point. He is... happy with us though, isn't he?"

"He hasn't told me that he isn't," Éponine told him, frowning, "Why?"

"I just... I feel like I'm becoming attached to him a little bit," Enjolras told her, "And I will tickle you to  _death_  if you tell any of the Amis that. But it's fun, having him around. His views on the revolution are incredibly precise for a boy his age. It's nice to have that insight."

"I'm slightly worried about your idea of fun, Apollo," Éponine grinned.

"Well, then you can be the fun parent," he said, wrapping his arm around her waist, "I'll be the strict one. Although I'd hate to be on the wrong side of your temper."

"You can hardly talk, Monsieur 'Where Are My Weapons'," Éponine laughed, "But can we please get back on topic?"

"Right," Enjolras agreed, smiling at her jibe, "My parents. You'll come? As you, not as the perfect girlfriend? And you'll put my mother in her place if she steps over the line?"

"Yes, yes and definitely yes," Éponine said, kissing Enjolras lightly on the lips before taking his hand, "I'm hungry."

"Then I suggest eating something," Enjolras smirked, "But that's just a suggestion."

"I have a craving for... cake. And cream. With a cup of tea and lots of sugar." Éponine smiled wistfully.

"Then that, mademoiselle, is what we shall have," Enjolras said, leading her down the street to the nearest bakery cafe.

* * *

Enjolras wrote to his parents that night, though evidently had his priorities sorted as he looked over a letter he had received from the government alongside.

"Dear Monsieur Enjolras, blah, blah, blah... we appreciate your suggestions, blah, blah, blah... we have discussed our options and wish for you to elaborate on a few, blah, blah, blah... Kind regards, Monsieur 'I Couldn't Care Less About Your Cause'." Enjolras grumbled.

"I take it that a trip to the government buildings is in order then?" Éponine asked, handing him a cup of tea and rubbing his shoulder comfortingly.

"Looks like it," he sighed, "But it'll require planning. And it will have to be  _before_  Baby is born. I don't want some silly government raid to make me miss my son's birth."

"Son?!" Éponine exclaimed, "I hope you don't know something that I don't, Apollo!"

"Relax, Athena," Enjolras laughed, "I just have a feeling that Baby is going to be a boy."

"Well, I disagree," she said, raising her eyebrows at his theory, "I think Baby is going to be a girl. And I just  _know_  that she'll be a Papa's princess."

"Oh do you now?" he asked, sipping his tea,

"Yes," Éponine said firmly, "I used to be a Papa's girl. I think our little one will love her Papa the same. Except you will be a much better role model and a fantastic father."

"I'm glad you have faith in me," Enjolras shrugged, "I think, for the first time in my life, something is actually petrifying me. The thought of becoming a father, having a tiny little life that completely relies on the two of us to look after it..."

"Okay, you can stop right there," Éponine said holding her hands up, "I'm feeling confident about being a mother. I don't need your gloomy thoughts."

"Apologies, Athena," Enjolras smirked, before smiling fondly, "You'll be an excellent mother. Even Gavroche thinks so."

"What about me?" said little boy happened to come running in just as Enjolras finished his sentence.

"You think that Éponine will be a great mother, don't you?" Enjolras asked him. Gavroche grinned.

"The best mother," he agreed, "You've looked after me all these years, haven't you, 'Ponine? Even when that thick, evil, pathetic excuse for a father of ours chucked me out. It's not easy to keep track of me. Just ask Courf." Éponine and Enjolras frowned at each other, confused as Gavroche looked towards the still open door as if he was expecting someone.

Then, a few seconds later, they could hear the sound of feet climbing the stairs to their second-floor apartment, and Courfeyrac eventually dragged himself into the apartment.

"Gavroche," he said pleadingly, "Please don't run off the second I turn my back!"

"I was bored!" Gavroche complained as Courfeyrac collapsed onto the sofa, "Besides, you told me to entertain myself for a few minutes. There's not much that's more entertaining than watching you try to catch me." He grinned mischievously. Courfeyrac just glared at him, finally catching his breath back.

"How did telling Marius and Cosette about your little bundle of joy go?" he asked Enjolras and Éponine, who smiled as each other.

"Well, different from how we expected it," Enjolras said.

"It seems our dearest Marius has got his head a bit stuck in the high-society clouds," Éponine told him, "Called the baby a 'distraction', an 'it', and 'something that will get in the way', almost in the same breath."

"Ouch," Courfeyrac winced, "What did you say?"

"I told him to get off his high horse and that I still haven't paid him back for his little drunken rant about me," Éponine grinned. Courfeyrac laughed hysterically.

"You should have been there, Courf," Enjolras laughed, "She put him in his place, and then we just walked out! It was truly hilarious." Gavroche rolled his eyes.

"Your idea of 'funny' worries me," he said, making a face at Enjolras.

"Don't worry, Gavroche, it worries me too," Éponine said, although she too chuckled along with the boys.

"Who's next on the 'To Tell About the Baby' list, then?" Courfeyrac asked after Gavroche disappeared into his room and the three of them finally stopped laughing.

"Apollo's parents," Éponine told him as Enjolras grimaced.

"It should be... interesting, to say the least." He said.

"Are you going for the 'pretend Éponine is the perfect match' approach, or the 'Éponine who just completely shut Marius up' approach."

"Well, she already is the perfect match, so..." Enjolras grinned, "The 'Éponine who just completely shut Marius up' approach, of course."

"I'm not going to pretend to be someone that I'm not," Éponine explained to Courfeyrac. He nodded approvingly.

"Good for you, 'Ponine," he said, "Especially with Enjolras' parents. Do you remember the first time I met them, Enjolras?"

"Oh, that was an entertaining trip, wasn't it?" Enjolras said, grimacing once again at the memory.

"What happened?" Éponine asked, intrigued by the boys' comments.

"I've been 'banished' from their house," Courfeyrac told her with a laugh, "Not that I'm at all bothered of course. But it really was quite pathetic. No offence, Enjolras."

"Oh, no offense taken," Enjolras said, rolling his eyes, "All he did was say that he's never been to a banquet in the government halls. That, apparently, is all it took..."

"No, they didn't like me from the start," Courfeyrac grinned, "I really should stop just being myself around new people..."

"I shall do my hardest to get banished  _after_  we've told them the news," Éponine laughed, "Because, really, my banishment is inevitable."

"I will forbid them from banishing you," Enjolras promised, smirking slightly as he took her hand in his, "And they certainly won't be banishing Baby, whether it's a he or a she, and whether it's been to some stupid banquet or not."

"You never forbade them from banishing me." Courfeyrac grumbled jokily. Enjolras rolled his eyes as Éponine laughed.

Courfeyrac got up to leave, "I should probably go and check that Grantaire hasn't drunk himself under the table yet. It's my job to get him home tonight, so..." he shrugged, "Bye, Gavroche!" he called through the door. The boy bolted out and hit Courfeyrac's legs like a child-sized bullet as he hugged him goodbye.

"I'm staying with you next week, right?" Gavroche asked.

"Yes, 'Vroche," Courfeyrac confirmed, "Just like you ask every week."

Gavroche's living arrangements were working well for everyone involved; it did both Éponine and Enjolras good to get to know Gavroche properly, and it was good for Courfeyrac to get as much work done as possible. It also kept Gavroche away from the many (many, many,  _many_ ) girls Courf managed to pick up.

Gavroche nodded happily, waving before returning to his room.

"Good luck to both of you with the parents from upper-class Hell," Courfeyrac said to Enjolras and Éponine as he left.

The two shared a look that clearly said 'we're going to need it'.


	18. Meet the Parents

**What if Éponine met Enjolras' parents?**

"Nervous?" Enjolras asked his beloved before he knocked on the door of his parents' frankly overbearing three-storey house. Even the front doors were a bit frightening: two of them, meeting at the middle with two gold knocking-handles the size of your hand at waist height, nearly ten feet high and painted a rather garish red.

Éponine shook her head, smiling; on the contrary, she really was quite excited. "Should I be?" she asked, smirking slightly.

"I'm starting to think  _they_  should be," he chuckled, "You've got that look on your face."

"What look?!" Éponine demanded, feigning offense.

"The look that always appears when you're not planning on letting anyone but  _you_  win at something." Enjolras told her, and knocked on the door loudly before she could say any more. Éponine glared at him playfully for a moment, before the door swung open and they were met by a maid.

"Monsieur Enjolras!" she smiled happily, "I haven't seen you in so many years! And this must be your beautiful beloved? Please, please, come in, your parents are expecting you." Glancing at each other for one last moment, the couple walked inside, their hands immediately slipping into one another as a sign of unity or of defiance (depending on how well Enjolras' parents took the news that the two of them were not only together, but were also expecting a baby).

Enjolras led Éponine down a few corridors, before they entered into a huge reception room, where Enjolras' parents were sitting on elaborate flower-patterned sofas. They looked up as the two of them entered and Enjolras' mother smiled in a way that patronised Éponine greatly. However, she smiled back, not wanting to make a bad first impression; she gathered the rest of the meeting would go downhill, so they may as well have a good start to make up for the rest of it.

"Enjolras! Darling! It's been far too long!" Enjolras' mother stood up and did a kind of skippy-run over to the two of them. She wrapped her arms around her son, who grimaced as she kissed his cheek.

"Leave the boy alone, Jaqueline, he doesn't need to be mollycoddled by his mother anymore," Enjolras' father seemed like the person Éponine could get along with; he also stood up, but only shook Enjolras' hand as a welcome, before holding his hand out to Éponine as well, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, mademoiselle," he smiled.

"Oh, just call me Éponine, monsieur," Éponine smiled, "Everyone else does." He smiled, nodding in acknowledgment.

"Then you must call me Phillip," he told her, "And this is my wife, Jaqueline." Éponine smiled warmly at 'Phillip', and also extended the smile to Jaqueline, who's responsive expression looked a lot like a forced smile.

 _Charming_... Éponine thought to herself, but hid her disgust behind her smile.

"Shall we sit?" Phillip suggested as the four drifted into a rather awkward silence.

"Please," Enjolras murmured almost desperately. Éponine grinned internally at the way he seemed to squirm when in his parents' presence.

"So, Enjolras, how have you been?" his father asked him.

"Busy," Enjolras said, "Éponine and I and a few friends are still working on my projects-"

"Really, Enjolras have you not given up on this ridiculous revolution yet?!" his mother exclaimed, "After that silly rebellion last June, I hoped you'd at last come to your senses..."

"The poor are still suffering, Maman," he said stiffly, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes, "And for your information, the June rebellion was a huge success. We've since been in contact with the government and we're planning on going to the government buildings in central Paris soon to discuss our ideas with them thoroughly."

"A huge success, you say?" she scoffed, "If it was such a huge success, then why are 'the poor' still suffering? That sounds like a failure to me."

"I came out alive, didn't I?" Enjolras muttered bitterly. He then cleared his throat, "Anyway, we didn't come here to talk about the rebellion or the revolution. We came here to talk about Éponine and I." His parents glanced at each other like they were very much trying to avoid the subject.

"Well, your mother and I have gathered that you two are an... item," Phillip said carefully, "But you understand that we do not yet completely approve."

Enjolras started to interrupt, "But-"

"As we do not yet know anything of Éponine." His father finished. Enjolras stopped short, looking between his parents, and then to Éponine who was smiling.

"Well, it shouldn't be too hard to fix that," she said happily, "What do you want to know?"

Now, in theory, Éponine should have been worried; she had a somewhat shady past regarding her parents and their oh-so-lovely gang, and if Enjolras' parents asked about her family she would have no choice but to tell them the truth. She would much rather have a bad relationship with Enjolras' parents than have a false one.

And it was this fact that made her want to answer any and all questions that they asked her. Because she truly did love Enjolras with all her heart, and she knew that his parents had to like her. But they were going to love her as  _her_ , just as Enjolras did, not as someone who lied.

"Where are you from?" Phillip asked after a moment's consideration; Éponine supposed that he wanted to start with something that wasn't too invasive.

"As a child I lived in a village called Montfermeil. I then moved into a small apartment with my family in Saint Michel, and now I live with Enjolras." She squeezed her beloved's hand, which was still interlinked with her own. He smiled at her lovingly; he hoped that she knew that he would always love her, no matter how much his parents did or didn't approve. He hadn't had a chance to tell her properly.

"Are you still in contact with your family?" Phillip asked. Éponine frowned slightly.

"My younger brother, Gavroche, yes," she told him, "And my younger sister, though she currently lives on the other side of Paris. I'm afraid my family are not people that I wish to be associated with, for the sake of my own safety, and that of my friends." At this, Enjolras' mother rolled her eyes incredulously.

"Enjolras, darling, with all due respect... do you really expect your father and I to approve of you being with a girl who has parents that she fears?!"

"I don't know whether you've noticed, madam, but I did mention that I'm not associating with my family any longer," Éponine said defensively, "My parents made some incredibly bad choices in their lifetimes, and I would very much appreciate it if you didn't judge me by their mistakes."

"And had you talked among the children living on the streets of Paris, Maman, you'd know that many of their parents are in fact mindless abusers with sadistic minds who beat their children senseless for no reason." Enjolras added.

"You know that we don't like to associate ourselves with those... people, Enjolras." His mother said, saying 'people' as if the beggars weren't worthy of such a title.

"Oh, so you understand where I'm coming from," Éponine said, smiling once again, "Next question?" slightly amused by the shocked look on Enjolras' mother's face, Éponine felt the need to move the conversation away.

"Do you plan on marrying our son?" Enjolras' mother asked after a few seconds of silence. Éponine and Enjolras both groaned, slightly bored of the question.

"We don't know yet," Éponine told her.

"It's not a topic we've discussed. Perhaps, in the future, we'll consider it. For now, we're happy with how things are." Enjolras said. Phillip nodded approvingly.

"I think you're going about this in the right way," he told the two of them, "And I look forward to getting to know you more, Éponine. But I believe Jaqueline may be on the verge of having a heart attack after all of these questions, so perhaps it's about time the two of you went home."

"I have one last question." Jaqueline said, holding up her hand to stop everyone from moving.

"I don't think you do," Phillip protested.

"Be quiet, Phillip," she snapped, before turning to Éponine, "You've lived on the streets?"

"Yes." Éponine said simply.

"You are part of Enjolras'... revolution?"

"Quite a vital part, I've been told."

"You understand that I do not approve of you or where you've come from?" Enjolras' mother's eyes were hard and they were bearing into Éponine like shards of ice, but the fiery brunette stared her down confidently.

"If that is your opinion, madam, then there is little I can do besides be myself to change it." She replied, feeling Enjolras squeeze her hand again (though whether it was a sign of encouragement or of warning she wasn't sure).

Enjolras' mother nodded, "I will see you again, Éponine," she said, and Enjolras stood up, knowing that his mother was dismissing them, "But some things may have to change."

"I look forward to hearing your suggestions." Éponine told her, also standing, "It's been a pleasure to meet you both," she said, nodding her goodbye to Phillip.

"We'll write to you soon," Phillip told his son, shaking his hand again, "Try not to cause too much trouble in the country before then."

"The revolution calls when the people rise, Father," Enjolras shrugged, "I shall cause trouble when the people call." His father smiled slightly, "Goodbye, Maman," Enjolras said to his mother, who nodded in acknowledgment of his farewell but said nothing.

The two left the room, when a thought struck Éponine. Releasing Enjolras' hand for the first time since they'd arrived, she dashed quickly back to the reception room, poking her head round the doorframe.

"Oh, and by the way," she smiled a dazzling smile that shone with happiness, "I'm pregnant with Enjolras' baby and we still haven't spoken about a wedding. Pleasure to meet you!" And with that she ran from the room, grabbing Enjolras' hand on the way, and they sprinted away from the house (and Enjolras' parents' shocked faces) without looking back, laughing hysterically.

* * *

The Amis could hardly believe their ears when Éponine and Enjolras told them the story later on following their visit to Enjolras' parents' house.

"You... you compared Enjolras' mother to yourself?" Courfeyrac gasped between laughing, "When she completely disapproved of you?!"

"She disapproved of my fearing my parents, I disapproved of her disliking the people on the streets," Éponine smiled, "It was a comparison that needed to be made!"

"And you... you just said that you were pregnant and walked out?!" Combeferre laughed, "Oh, dearest 'Ponine... how did you get out alive?!"

"Forget 'alive'," Enjolras grinned, "They haven't even banished her! They said they'll see her again!"

"To be fair, that was before I dropped the whole 'I'm having your son's baby' thing on them," Éponine laughed. She was rather enjoying the carefree evening with her friends.

"Well, 'Ponine, that's it," Courfeyrac grinned, "You're a part of Enjolras' family now. How does it feel?"

"Like I'm four months pregnant," Éponine laughed, "But it's a good feeling. Apollo overestimated his family's ability to scare me. The parents from hell, you said! They were far from  _that_!"

"Actually, it was Courf who said that," Enjolras corrected her, "And you were lucky. Perhaps it's because you're a woman so they didn't actually believe that you were part of the revolution. That's what seemed to annoy them about everyone else."

"Except Grantaire," Marius put in (he had made a rather stutter-y and red-faced apology to both Éponine and Enjolras at the start of the evening, and their disastrous meeting the week before had been forgotten), "They didn't like Grantaire because he drunk three of their most expensive bottles of wine and then passed out on their best rug."

"What can I say, you've got to make an impression!" said drunk laughed, taking another swig from a bottle of wine as if to prove his point.

"Yes well, I think 'Ponine managed that just fine," Enjolras smiled, wrapping an arm around Éponine's waist. She leaned her head on his shoulder, smiling slightly.

"I sincerely hope so," she told him, "Baby should know at least  _one_  set of her grandparents."

"Her?" Courfeyrac questioned, confused.

"Maternal instinct." Éponine and Enjolras replied simultaneously.

"They're doing it again..." Gavroche muttered to Courfeyrac, "Talking at the same time... it's  _annoying_."

"I think it's adorable," Jehan murmured.

" _I_  think it's time we were going," Enjolras said, "We're going to see Azelma tomorrow."

"Oh, Christ, I forgot!" Éponine exclaimed. Enjolras smirked.

"I thought you had," he said, "You haven't mentioned it for about an hour!"

"I haven't been  _that_  bad!" Éponine protested, "Besides, I haven't seen her for months! I'm allowed to be excited."

"I still can't believe you're going without me," Gavroche complained, "I haven't seen Azelma for months  _either_!"

"Maybe next time, Gavroche," Éponine grinned, "We want to tell her about Baby in our own way, thank you very much. We don't particular want you to shout ''Ponine is pregnant' the second the door opens like you did with Courf's sister..."

"She found that quite funny, actually," Courf laughed, "I think you should take him with you."

"I will not do that to my only sister," Éponine said firmly, "Unlike you, Courfeyrac, I don't have two  _other_  sisters to make up for the first one."

"You barely ever see Gianna and Phillipa," he protested, "Lillé is the only one you actually talk to!"

"I don't see how that makes a difference." Éponine started.

"Alright, alright," Enjolras interrupted, "We really should be getting home. Don't forget about the meeting on Friday. We need to start making plans."

"We  _always_  need to start making plans," Combeferre pointed out, "No one will forget, Enjolras."

"Don't worry, Apollo," Grantaire smirked, "The world hasn't ceased to exist because you're having a baby. The rest of us are still focused..." he hiccupped loudly, filling Enjolras with sarcastic confidence.

"The  _rest_  of us are still focused, at least," Courfeyrac muttered, "Enjoy your visit to Azelma's. Say hello to her for me."

"And me!" Gavroche said, "And tell her that I say ''Ponine is pregnant'!" Éponine chuckled.

"I'll be sure to do that, 'Vroche." She said seriously, before leading the way out of the Musain with Enjolras muttering behind her.

"What were they talking about? Are they trying to say that I'm not focused?  _Have they been talking to Marius_?!"

"Calm down, Apollo," Éponine laughed, "They were  _joking_. You're aware of the concept, I presume?"

"Yes, thank you, mademoiselle, I am," he said dryly. They drifted into silence as they walked, Éponine's arm linked through his. "You were amazing today," Enjolras commented, "With my parents. I can't believe you told them like that..."

"It was that or not telling them at all," Éponine smiled, "Anyway, your mother needed some kind of shock to get her to like me!"

"Yes, I suppose a beautiful grandchild  _is_  a reasonably good bargaining chip..." Enjolras joked.

Éponine laughed, "Your parents aren't all that bad. Your father is nice, your mother is... bearable. You wait, a few more visits and we'll be getting on like a house on fire!"

"An interesting metaphor, if you consider the consequences of a house on fire..." Enjolras smirked. Éponine nudged his disapprovingly with her elbow.

"My point  _is_  that they are nice, and they are infinitely better than my parents."

"Alright, I'll give you that," Enjolras agreed, "Talking of your family, how do you think Azelma will react to you being pregnant?"

"Well, considering that Courf's sister almost fainted when Gavroche told her, and that Azelma is considerably easier to shock, I'm sure she's going to take it  _excellently..._ "


	19. Creatures of Habit

**What if Éponine had some adorable habits during pregnancy?**

Throughout the following months of Éponine's pregnancy, she picked up several habits and quirks that Enjolras managed to pick up on. He secretly found them rather adorable, and didn't dare comment on them for the fear that Éponine might stop.

* * *

**Feeling Baby Kick**

"Enjolras!" Éponine gasped, her hand clutching her continuously growing baby bump. Enjolras, who had been making lunch in the kitchen, ran over worriedly.

"What is it? Is it the baby? Is everything alright?" he asked, his face showing obvious concern.

"Feel!" she said, smiling, taking his hand and placing it next to hers on her bump. Enjolras was confused for a moment, before feeling a soft thud under his hand. His face lit up immediately.

"That's our baby," he said, his eyes wondrous, "Alive and kicking..." Éponine grinned back at him.

"She's a strong one, I'll give her that," she said. Enjolras chuckled.

"Which one of us does Baby get that from?" Enjolras questioned, smirking.

"Let's say both of us," Éponine laughed, "Otherwise things might get a bit... angry."

"Deal," Enjolras said, smiling even more as he felt the baby kick again.

"What's for lunch?" Éponine asked, looking away from her bump and back to Enjolras' face.

"Croissants with cheese and grapes," Enjolras said, reluctantly standing up to finished preparing it.

"Have we got any jam?" Éponine questioned.

"Why would you want jam?!" Enjolras asked, frowning.

"It goes well with croissants!" Éponine said, her tone implying that the fact was obvious.

"Yes," Enjolras agreed, "But it  _doesn't_  go well with cheese."

"But I want  _jam_." Éponine complained, pouting slightly as she looked at him. Enjolras sighed rolling his eyes.

"When you're being sick because of all of the bizarre foods in your stomach, don't expect me to refrain from saying 'I told you so'."

"Thank you, Apollo," Éponine sang, chuckling as the baby kicked again.

*. . .*

The next evening found Éponine and Enjolras in the Musain. The initial meeting (adding to the plans for the Amis' upcoming invasion of the government buildings) had finished well over an hour ago. Éponine sat contentedly in her seat as she watched Enjolras debating with Joly about something.

"He never stops, does he?" Courfeyrac appeared next to her, making her jump.

"You almost gave me a heart attack, 'Fey!" she exclaimed, laughing from the shock, "He never stops what?"

"Arguing," Courfeyrac smirked, "Or debating. He always has to have his say."

"That's not a bad thing," Éponine said, "If you're going to be something in life, what's better than- Ohh!" she cut herself off, her hand finding the spot where Baby was kicking again.

"You alright?" Courf asked, frowning, "Shall I get Joly...?"

"No, no!" Éponine exclaimed, "It's just... oh, give me your hand!" Courfeyrac offered her his hand, his face clearly showing his thoughts: 'what in the name of sanity are you doing?!'. As she placed his hand under hers, he felt the kick and grinned.

"That... God, 'Ponine! That's a little baby in there!" he exclaimed. Éponine laughed.

"Of course it is, silly!" she said, "Honestly, did you think I was giving birth to a puppy?! Baby hasn't stopped kicking since yesterday afternoon, except for the last hour... I was starting to think she'd fallen asleep in there!"Courfeyrac shook his head.

"I can't believe you're having a baby, 'Ponine," he said disbelievingly, "Do you remember that time, you were only about twelve... you were running around the streets, picking whatever you could out of those bourgeois men's pockets, and you ran straight into me? You went flying... and then you stood up and gave me a right talking to! This tiny little girl, standing in front of me, shouting, and I was scared out of my wits!" Éponine laughed.

"I wasn't  _that_  tiny!" she protested.

"You were!" Courf insisted, "You barely even came up to my elbow! Never would I have believed that I'd see you  _pregnant_  in a few years time." Éponine shrugged.

"The world is strange," she offered, "Strange things happen. I'm just lucky that  _my_  strange thing is a  _happy_  strange thing. A happy, strange thing that is apparently trying to beat me up from the inside out!" She rolled her eyes, rubbing her bump.

"She likes the sound of Courf's voice," Enjolras said, coming up behind Éponine and making her jump again.

"That's twice in two minutes that someone's done that!" she said, "Honestly, I'm awake, you know! I don't need to be shocked into reality!" Enjolras chuckled.

"Baby likes the sound of your voice, too," Enjolras said, "You keep talking to her."

"I can't believe you two keep referring to it as a she," Courf said, "Imagine if 'she' was a boy! That'd be a story to tell in future years!"

"Baby is a she," Éponine said firmly, "I can feel it."

*. . .*

Over the coming weeks, all of the Amis, bar one, had felt Éponine and Enjolras' bundle of joy making itself known. Said 'bar one' was Grantaire, who was frowning at the very idea of feeling a baby kick.

"What  _does_ it feel like?" he asked Éponine one evening.

"I can't really explain it," Éponine shrugged, "It just feels like someone's kicking my insides. Nothing else to it, really. Oh, there she goes again..." Éponine smiled slightly, "Do you want to feel?"

"Er, no thank you," Grantaire said hastily.

"Oh, go on, you know you want to," Éponine said, reaching out and taking his hand, "Quick, before she stops!" she laid Grantaire's hand on her bump, smirking slightly as the frown on his face deepened, "What do you think?"

"It's weird," he said, retracting his hand, "Makes my insides crawl."

"Well, perhaps it's a good thing that  _you're_  not pregnant then," Éponine shrugged; she knew deep down that Grantaire would come to love everything about Baby. It was just a matter of time.

* * *

**Bizarre Cravings**

Though Enjolras knew that cravings were a normal side effect of pregnancy, he had thought that this might subside as baby grew. Apparently not.

 _Apparently_ , Baby had very good ideas on what foods it liked, and it was particularly good at making sure that Éponine liked these things too.

"Enjolras!" Éponine called, "I'm going to the market!" Enjolras frowned, looking up from the essay he was writing for university (he had almost finished his course, thank goodness; it would be one less thing to worry about).

"Why...?" he asked, standing up curiously.

"I fancy some tomatoes," she replied, "I'll be ten minutes."

"Do you want me to come with you?" he asked.

"No thank you." She replied as the door clicked shut. He shook his head;  _tomatoes._  That was the latest in a rather bizarre list of foods that Éponine had 'fancied'.

*. . .*

The week before, Enjolras had found Éponine with flour all over herself, pushing a tray into the oven.

"What on Earth...?" he muttered, "What  _are_  you doing?!"

"Making biscuits!" Éponine said happily, "I felt like eating biscuits, but we didn't have any and the shop had sold out, so I made some!"

"You... you  _cooked_?" Enjolras checked, "You. Éponine. Cooking. With an oven and... ingredients?"

"I  _baked_ ," Éponine corrected him, "It's different to cooking."

"Oh, well, that's alright then..." Enjolras raised his eyebrows at his beloved, "You've got some, er... some flour. On your face."

"Do I?" Éponine frowned, "Where?" Enjolras couldn't help the smile on his face as he smudged some flour on Éponine 's cheek with his thumb. Éponine's eyebrows fell into a deeper frown, "You just smudged it, didn't you?"

"Quite possibly..." Enjolras grinned. Éponine smiled dangerously, and before he know it, Enjolras' blue jacket was covered in white. His mouth gaped in shock. He flicked some flour back at her in revenge, to which she flung a piece of biscuit dough at him. And so, a full-on food fight ensued.

"We're making such a mess..." she giggled after ten minutes of mindless food-flinging.

"I'll clear it up," Enjolras said, still smiling, "How about I fill the bath so you can relax for a little bit?"

"Oh, this is why I love you," Éponine said, kissing him lightly before going to change out of her flour-y clothes, "Oh, and could you get my biscuits out of the oven in about ten minutes?" she called over her shoulder.

Enjolras looked around at the flour and biscuit dough covering the kitchen surfaces and the floor around him.

 _This could take a while..._  he thought.

*. . .*

Added to the list of cravings were cheese (ridiculous amounts in one sitting), carrots and gravy ( _raw_  carrots... Éponine didn't really understand it either) and a beef stew that only Jehan could make. It was all rather peculiar, and Enjolras didn't even attempt to understand it. He would, after all, never experience it first-hand.

* * *

**Constant Boredom**

When she got to six months pregnant, Éponine found herself tiring quicker and finding it harder to move around. She was often confined to the sofa at Combeferre or Joly's request, both of them stating that she was 'wearing herself out', to which she'd scoff. Enjolras would merely squeeze her hand, and would make her as comfortable as possible when they got home.

"I hate sitting around doing nothing," Éponine complained, "I want to go out, for a walk in the spring sunshine! Not be cooped up indoors with nothing but a ceiling to stare at."

"Well,  _that's_  not true," Enjolras said, frowning comically, "There are four walls in this room; you could look at them too!" Éponine would glare at him, sighing grumpily.

"I don't like feeling useless," she huffed, "But there's nothing to  _do_  when all you can do is sit around!"

"Would you like a book?" Enjolras asked.

"No," Éponine said, "I've read all my books."

"What about one of  _my_  books?" Enjolras questioned.

"I've read all of  _your_  books too," she replied, "Not nearly as interesting."

"Would you like something to write on?" Enjolras asked, "Perhaps you could write me a book report on precisely  _why_  my books were less interesting..."

Éponine grimaced, "I want to  _stop_  being bored, Apollo, not to  _increase_  my boredom."

Enjolras sighed exasperatedly, "Then what would you like to do?  _From the sofa_." He added quickly, almost  _seeing_  the words 'go outside' forming in her brain. Éponine glared at him again, before smiling.

"I'd like you to sing for me." She said, grinning triumphantly. Enjolras' shoulders slumped dejectedly after a moment.

"Fine," he agreed reluctantly, "But just this once. It's incredibly tiring to sing constantly, you know."

Enjolras repeated that very sentence the next eight times Éponine was bored and asked him to sing for her, and, to give him some credit, it  _did_  lift Éponine's boredom. However, it rather undermined his ability to stick to his word.

But he and Éponine had made a silent pact to never tell the Amis that.


	20. The Time Has Come

**What if the time came for the Amis to fight for their beloved revolution again?**

"It seems... The time has come." Enjolras stood on the platform in front of the Amis in the Cafe Musain, holding a letter in his hand. The people gathered around him all fell silent as he called out those words, stopping their conversations to listen to what he had to say. "Over the last eight months, I have exchanged several letters with a Monsieur Moreau from the French Government regarding the changes we... _suggested_  the government put in place. Our letters spoke of compromise on several occasions, but this morning I received this reply," Enjolras cleared his throat, bringing the letter up so that he could read it, "Dear Monsieur Enjolras..."

_I once again discussed your suggestions with my colleagues. After much debating, we are unanimous on the fact that your changes cannot be implemented by the government in the near future. As asked, your suggestions were also taken to his majesty, the King of France, who found very few of your ideas reasonable._

_You have my sincerest apologies, and I hope that we can perhaps work together at some point in the future._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Bastien Moreau_

Lowering the letter once again, Enjolras looked around at the people surrounding him, most of whom were gaping or muttering angrily. Éponine, having already read the letter and had to deal with an incredibly angry Enjolras that morning, was sitting on a chair in the corner, a plate balanced on her still growing baby-bump. She was eating fruit-biscuits as if she had an infinite supply (which she very nearly did; she had spent the entire weekend baking with Cosette, cooking the only thing she could. It ended considerably better than it had the  _last_  time she made biscuits...).

"What are we going to do, then?" a voice called out. Many of the Amis were a bit shocked to find that Grantaire was the one questioning their leader; he was, after all, the only member of the Amis who didn't truly believe in the cause. Everyone knew that Grantaire was only there for Enjolras and the rest of his friends.

Enjolras seemed to be the only one who was unfazed by Grantaire's question; in fact, he grinned cunningly as he answered.

"We're going to the government buildings before this week is over."

* * *

In theory, the plan was simple; all the group had to do was get into the government buildings and persuade whoever was behind the front desk to let them see Monsieur Moreau, which shouldn't have been difficult with Enjolras and his incredible speaking skills on their side.

What they didn't expect to be matched with was a very grumpy receptionist who didn't like to be interrupted at half past one when she was just about to go on her lunch hour.

"Monsieur, if you do not have an appointment with Monsieur Moreau, and you are not  _planning_  on getting an appointment in the near future, then I'd strongly suggest that you leave before I call for the police to remove you using force."

"Mademoiselle, with all due respect, this is a rather important matter with regards to the state." Enjolras said, and, had he not wanted to make a good impression, he would have gritted his teeth and glared at the woman. This was met by cheers from the other Amis.

"Vive la France!"

"Down with the monarchy!"

"Freedom for the people!"

Enjolras barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes; enthusiasm was, for the most part, welcomed by him when it came to the cause; when he was trying to persuade a woman who sincerely didn't want to be persuaded to let them pass, it was more of a hindrance.

"Excuse me, coming through, Courfeyrac  _get out of the way_." Another voice carried over the heads of the other Amis as Éponine pushed her way through the crowd of people gathered in the lobby of the government building. She finally reached the front of the crowd to stand next to Enjolras at the reception desk.

"Monsieur, once again, I must ask you to leave." The receptionist said, ignoring Éponine's arrival.

"Yes, hello, good afternoon," Éponine butted in, placing her hands on the front desk, "My name is Éponine Thénardier, I am six months pregnant and I'm in an extremely  _very_  bad mood. If you want to escape the outburst of pure annoyance that is about to happen, I sincerely suggest that you send word to Monsieur Moreau that Monsieur Enjolras and his party are in the lobby waiting to see him about a very important matter that really can't wait another moment to be discussed." Éponine smiled a warning smile at the receptionist, who frowned disapprovingly at her.

"I'm afraid Monsieur Moreau is very busy today," she said stiffly, "Might I suggest that you come back tomorrow?"

"Apparently the words 'can't wait another moment to be discussed' didn't register to you when I said them," Éponine said, "I do hope that you understand that an outburst of annoyance from a heavily pregnant woman is really a recipe for quite a catastrophic disaster."

"Especially when Éponine gets annoyed," Enjolras inputted, "You definitely don't want to be on the wrong end of one of Éponine's mood swings..." Courfeyrac caught on to the pair's plan, and started joining in.

"Yes, last time Éponine got annoyed at me, she threatened me...  _with a spoon_. I didn't think a spoon could be such a deadly weapon until then..." Gavroche, who was standing at his feet and hadn't yet been noticed by the receptionist due to his rather lack-of height, grinned madly.

"'Ponine's really scary when she's angry," Gavroche spoke up, "She made me organise her cupboards last time I annoyed her... it took me  _days_!" the receptionist stood up slightly, peering over the desk to see the owner of the voice. Gavroche grinned up at her, using his 'adorable face' as Éponine had branded it not so long ago.

The receptionist looked confused at the fact that Gavroche was there, but overlooked it as she sat back down. "I'm afraid that it simply isn't possible for you to see Monsieur Moreau today. If you'd like to come back later this week, I will let Monsieur Moreau know that you were here."

The look on Éponine's face darkened. Enjolras, catching the rather scary look in his beloved's eye hastily retook control of the situation.

"All I need is five minutes," he said, "It really is essential to the state. Does that mean nothing to you?!"

Before the receptionist could answer, a door on the other side of the lobby opened and a plump, elderly man wearing small glasses and a suit approached the desk, not looking up from the report he was staring intently at.

"Jeanette, I need you to organise a meeting with Monsieur Carroe, preferably before next Tuesday..." he looked up and stopped short at the sight of almost fifty revolutionaries standing in the lobby of his workplace.

"Monsieur Moreau, I assume?" Enjolras said amusedly, making his way past the desk and holding his hand out to the man who was too shocked to shake it, "I'm Enjolras, though I feel you've probably guessed that."

"What... what are you doing here?!" he asked, outraged, "I thought my business with you blasted revolutionaries was finished!"

Had the man been talking to Grantaire, or Courfeyrac, or Gavroche or even Éponine, he probably would have been met with a fist connecting with his face at that point. However, Enjolras, being the stoic and strong leader that he was, knew better than to entertain the man with the anger that he would be expected.

"I'm afraid not," he said, still smiling slightly, "You see, I think you may have forgotten... we built a  _barricade_  for the sake of the people last year, and many of us almost died trying, my beloved being one of them," Éponine waved from where she was still standing behind the desk. Enjolras smiled at her, waving back, before continuing his speech, "And, I don't know what message that sent out to you, but it was intended to say 'we're not going down without a fight'." He was once again met by cheers from his fellow Amis.

Moreau frowned angrily, "You people are a disgrace to society!" he raged, "You should accept your monarchy! Accept your country the way it is!"

"Why should we accept anything less than perfection?" a voice called out.

Another joined him, "Your society's rubbish!"

Followed by several others, "The king knows nothing of the people and neither do you!"

"How would you like to live on the streets?!"

"I'll show you where you can stick your monarchy!"

Moreau seemed overwhelmed by the people shouting at him; when he had been asked to take on the revolutionary case, he had not expected to be met by a group of angry students as he was about to go to lunch with his sister.

Enjolras was joined by Marius, who had pushed his way through the crowd to join his friend, "Monsieur Moreau, I believe you know my grandfather, Monsieur Gillenormand?" Moreau's face lit up in recognition.

"You're Gillenormand's grandson?!" he asked incredulously, "You, amongst these..." he faltered for a second.

"I believe the word you're looking for is 'people', Monsieur Moreau," Enjolras said. Moreau glared at him, but turned back to Marius.

"And what is your grandfather's opinion on all of this?" he asked. Marius smirked.

"Well, at first he shared your opinions," he said, "He thought I was a disgrace to my family. But after I fought on the barricade, after I was willing to risk my life... his opinion changed. He still hasn't told me why. He simply said that 'family is family, whether they are disgraceful or not'. I believe my father in law may have had something to do with his change of heart. Nonetheless, he supports my role in the revolution."

Moreau frowned in thought, and Enjolras gestured for the Amis behind him to quieten down. After almost a minute of near-silence, the older man sighed.

"Monsieur Enjolras, perhaps you and a few of your... party, would like to discuss your revolution with me in my office?"

"I think that would be appropriate," Enjolras nodded, the amused look still in his eyes, "Courfeyrac, Combeferre, 'Ponine... Gavroche," he picked out a few of his friends to join him, "And Marius," he said, before nodding to Moreau. The old man looked over to Jeanette-the-receptionist.

"Jeanette, please send word to my sister that we'll have to reschedule our lunch meeting," he said, "Due to important matters of state." And with that he turned around and made his way back towards the stairs, leading the small group up to an office.

Enjolras clasped a hand on Marius' shoulder, "Thank you," he said sincerely, "I've often doubted if your heart was in anything that the Amis were doing in recent months. You proved me wrong."

"I feel like I know why Grantaire is still here now," Marius replied, "It's not just about the cause, it's about being there for your friends. And you're right; I've forgotten the Amis in the last few months, and for that I apologise. Do you forgive me?" he held an apologetic hand out to Enjolras, who shook it without a second thought.

"You're here now," the revolutionary leader said, smiling slightly, "That's what matters." Marius grinned before walking faster up the steps to talk with Combeferre. Enjolras fell back slightly to join Éponine who was struggling to keep up with the boys as she climbed the stairs whilst being six months pregnant. She smiled gratefully at him for waiting, resting one hand on her bump and taking his hand in hers with the other.

"You did well," she told him as the carried on slowly up the steps.

"You did more," he chuckled, "Angry 'Ponine? Not even  _I_  would want to face her!"

"Yes, thank you  _ever_  so much for mentioning my mood swings," she said, mock annoyance on her face. Enjolras, kissed her lightly on the lips.

"Forgive me?" he asked. She couldn't stop the blush spreading over her cheeks; even after almost a year with Enjolras, she still felt so ridiculously happy every time he so much as touched her.

"For now," she said, ignoring the way he smirked as he noticed her pink cheeks, "Now stop looking at me like that; you have a revolution to fight for."

" _We_  have a revolution to fight for," he corrected her. Éponine rolled her eyes.

"Nevertheless, it involves 'fighting' and I feel you are better matched to that task than I am," Éponine laughed, "You, after all, are only carrying one person. I'm carrying two."

"Excuses, excuses," Enjolras teased as they reached the top of the stairs, "Ready to give this man a piece of our minds?"

"More than anything." Éponine grinned, pushing the door in front of them open and joining their friends in Moreau's office.

* * *

The rest of the Amis found themselves waiting around in the foyer. Many were sitting on the floors around the edge of the spacious room, wondering exactly how long Enjolras and his party were going to take.

"What can they possibly be discussing that's taking this long?!" Grantaire complained loudly after almost an hour of waiting.

"Patience, mon ami," Jehan said soothingly, "They have much to discuss."

"I thought the whole 'discussing' issue was what brought us here in the first place..." Grantaire grumbled, "I knew I should have brought that bottle of ale..."

Feuilly smirked, "It probably would have been confiscated from you the second you stepped into the building."

"Well, at least that would have made things a bit more interesting," Grantaire chuckled, "It would have simply hilarious for us all to try and get it back again."

As their laughter died out, the door Enjolras and the others had disappeared through opened again, the six of them filing out with Moreau close behind. Enjolras shook the older man's hand with a smile on his face before they made their wake back over to the others.

"Well?" Joly prompted after a moment of silence, "What's happening?" Enjolras smiled.

"Come, my friends," he called out to all of them, his voice reaching them all despite the way they were spread out around the room, "We have cause for celebration, after all." He was met by cheers once again, though this time they were more triumphant shouts than passionate jeers.

"You did well up there," Éponine murmured to Enjolras as they followed the others out, repeating what she had said before entering Moreau's office. Everyone was tactfully ignoring the glares directed at them from Jeanette the Receptionist, "You were fair and you were calm, but you got your way."

Enjolras smirked, "I always get my way," he pointed out, "And Monsieur Moreau didn't put up much of a fight after you started telling him all those details about living on the streets."

Éponine shrugged, "He needed a wake-up call," she said defensively, "And if he thought my depictions were bad, then I'd  _love_  to see how he'd fare if he had to live on the streets himself."

"I doubt he'd last very long," Enjolras replied, "Then again, if  _any_  of the bourgeois people in Paris had to live on the streets, I don't think any of them would be able to cope..."

"I know they wouldn't," Éponine replied, "I don't even think  _I_  could nowadays... I spent nine years fending for myself, and not even a year after I stopped, I'd be dead in days if I went back."

"I'm sure you wouldn't," Enjolras protested, "Did you not tell me once that a lot of it was instinct?" Éponine looked thoughtful.

"True," she agreed after a while, "But I wouldn't have you by my side. And that is  _surely_  a recipe for disaster." Enjolras laughed.

"Oh, believe me, Athena, if you had to live out on the streets again, I'd still be living with you." Éponine raised her eyebrows.

"You'd do that for me?" she asked, part of her fully expecting him to say no, he wouldn't.

"I'd do anything for you," he said immediately. Éponine blushed again, not fully trusting his words, "You expected me to say something different, didn't you?" he asked, noticing her pink cheeks. Éponine blushed even redder.

"I blame being pregnant," she sighed, "Baby is making me question everything."

"Baby seems to think that Papa is going to abandon you," Enjolras said, fixing Éponine's bump with a disapproving frown, "Which is never going to happen." Éponine laughed at the fact that Enjolras was simply staring at their unborn child.

"Well, I know that Papa isn't going anywhere," Éponine said decisively, "Because if he does, then Mama will have to kill him."

"Ouch!" Enjolras aid, feigning being hurt, "That's a little harsh, don't you think?" Éponine shrugged.

"That depends on whether or not you think I was joking." With that, Éponine flashed him a smile and sped up slightly to catch up with everyone else. Enjolras shook his head, wondering how on Earth he and Éponine ever became a successful couple, but being grateful for it nonetheless.


	21. An Imperfect Proposal

**What if Enjolras' proposal to Éponine went wrong?**

Two months later, Enjolras and Éponine's lives were finally starting to settle into something that could be classed as 'normal'.

Enjolras now had an official role in the French government: 'Government Representative of the People'. He had a say in how the country was run, he was helping achieve equality for all people, and he still got to go out and preach his beloved speeches. He and Éponine were almost ready for their baby to arrive, and he had never been so happy.

With the rather huge sum the government was paying him, (Enjolras suspected that it was partly to stop him destroying every item of furniture in the country in an attempt to prove his point again), he was employing Éponine, Marius and Grantaire as his 'advisors'. With his friends and his beloved at his side, his life was pretty close to perfect.

Which (along with some not-so-gentle persuasion from the Amis) was what pushed him to decide to ask Éponine to marry him.

* * *

Enjolras had had it all planned out; a romantic dinner at Éponine's favourite restaurant, then a walk by the river. And then, to end the night, the perfect proposal. The plan was faultless.

But, this being real life, it really was impossible for something so simple to go smoothly.

It was a May evening, and outside it was pleasantly warm with bright skies. In theory, this should have been Enjolras' first sign that  _something_  would go wrong. But he just counted himself lucky that it was such a nice evening, put on his jacket and offered Éponine his arm as they walked out the door.

"What's all this in aide of?" she asked, slipping her arm through his.

"Oh, nothing in particular," he said, barely able to hide the massive grin that was threatening to break onto his face, "I just thought that we haven't had much alone time together in a while. And we certainly won't have much after Baby arrives." Éponine smiled, absentmindedly rubbing her baby bump fondly as they descended the stairs form their apartment.

"Everything's going to change when Baby comes, isn't it?" she asked quietly.

"Maybe," Enjolras said thoughtfully, "But I doubt it'll be in a bad way."

"Aside from the severe lack of sleep, added pressure of looking after a baby and the no alone time?" Éponine teased.

"Well, yes, aside from that," Enjolras chuckled. Another thought came into his head, "Have you, er... told your parents?"

Éponine looking at his disbelievingly, "What do you think?" she asked, the fact that the answer was obvious relayed through her tone. Enjolras shrugged.

"I was just wondering," he said, "I can understand you not wanting to tell your father, but... what about your mother? Baby  _will_  be her grandchild after all."

"My mother's almost as bad as my father," Éponine said quietly, "I wasn't lying when I told your parents that I didn't want to be associated with them anymore. I'm done with my family, except Gavroche, of course, and Azelma. I have a new family now, with you, and the rest of the Amis, and Cosette... I don't need my parents anymore."

Enjolras stopped, looking down at her with nothing but pure love in his eyes. The way her eyes shone with memories and almost glittered in the weak evening sun. The way her hair, loose for the first time in a while, hung down her back in perfect ringlets. The way she rested a hand protectively on her bump, making sure that no harm would come to their unborn child. His first thought when he brought all of this to mind?

_I am doing to marry this woman if it's the last thing I do._

Éponine shook her head, bringing herself back to reality, "Shall we go?" she said, smiling slightly. Enjolras nodded, leading the way down the street towards the little restaurant they were going to.

It was then when Enjolras' plan started to go wrong. For, living in the small area that they lived in, it was near impossible to walk anywhere without bumping into someone you knew. And the couple were just incredibly unlucky in the respect that their walk had to be interrupted by an already drunk Grantaire.

"APOLLO! ATHENA!" the shout came from behind them and Enjolras didn't even bother to disguise his groan as he and Éponine turned around to meet Grantaire.

"Good evening, Grantaire," Enjolras said through gritted teeth.

"Where are the two of you off to, then?" Grantaire slurred.

"Grantaire, it's barely even seven o'clock!" Éponine exclaimed, "How can you be drunk already?!"

"Where there's a will, there's a way, 'Ponine," Grantaire smirked, tapping the side of his nose clumsily.

"I think you should probably go home and sober up," Enjolras said firmly, "I'm quite surprised you're not sprawled on the pavement already."

"Go home?!" Grantaire protested loudly, earning him quite a lot of attention from people in the surrounding cafes and restaurants, "But the night's barely started!"

"And you're already struggling to stay upright," Éponine noted amusedly, "Go home, Grantaire."

Grantaire frowned like a toddler who had just been denied something they wanted, "You two are never any fun anymore!" he sulked, stumbling away (not in the direction of his flat, Enjolras noted), "Where did your sense of humour go, 'Ponine?!"

Éponine just rolled her eyes, not bothering to entertain him with an answer, taking Enjolras' hand and almost skipping down the street, a big smile on her face for no apparent reason.

"Why are you so happy all of a sudden?" Enjolras asked, also smiling and rather amused by her cheerfulness.

"I don't know," Éponine shrugged, "Life, I suppose. We've got a home, a decent amount of money, amazing friends..."

"Are we counting Grantaire as a friend?" Enjolras questioned jokily. Éponine nudged him in the ribs with her elbow.

"You know you love him really," she grinned, "And besides, you need  _someone_  who couldn't care less to advise you on what to tell the government people. We both know how... overdramatic Marius can be at times, and I certainly don't want the future of the country weighing on just our shoulders."

"I need him if I want to _lose_ my job, if that's what you mean," Enjolras rolled his eyes, "I think if I repeated half of the things Grantaire has to say about the government and the monarchy, I'll be arrested for treason!"

"Up until recently you weren't much better," Éponine smirked, "Some of the things you used to say in your rallies were really quite insulting in the eyes of the leaders of our country." Enjolras smiled, memories of going out and preaching to the people flashing through his mind.

"Do you miss it?" Éponine asked. He raised his eyebrows thoughtfully.

"Sometimes," he admitted, "But then I tell myself to stop being such an idiot. I have an amazing life now. I never once thought that I'd work in the government, I didn't think I'd ever settle down, and I truly believed that I'd die in the battle for a better France. And then you came along." Éponine rolled her eyes.

"I really do think that you overdramatize my part in all of this," she said, "I really can't have made such an enormous impact."

"Oh, how wrong you are, 'Ponine," Enjolras said fondly, wrapping his arm around her waist and resting his head on hers, "Before I saw you injured on the barricade, I was definitely the Man of Marble that the Amis had always made me out to be. I didn't care for anything or anyone that wasn't my country, and that should have been my downfall. Had you not been there to, quite literally, hit some sense into me... I have no doubt in the fact that the rebellion would have failed." Éponine blushed slightly.

"You're certainly a lot more sentimental nowadays, Apollo," she smiled.

"Perhaps that's because I have someone to be sentimental towards," he said, chuckling quietly, "You have changed me more than anyone would believe, Éponine. Even I cannot completely comprehend it. But I am grateful, nonetheless."

Leaning into his embrace a little more, Éponine smiled again, "I love you, Enjolras."

"I love you too, dearest Éponine," he told her, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

* * *

In future days, Enjolras would often think that the sentimental exchange he had shared with Éponine on their way to dinner had lulled him into a false sense of security, as it seemed that fate was not done in trying to ruin his perfect night.

When he and Éponine reached the restaurant, they sat down at a table in the quaint outside area, the waitress noticing on Éponine's baby bump and wishing the couple luck with their newborn.

"I remember when my boy was just a little baby," she noted fondly, "They're the worst and the best years of your life, I can tell you that." It was safe to say that neither Enjolras nor Éponine were particularly reassured by this comment.

The night grew cloudy rather quickly, blocking any light from the moon and the stars, but it was still reasonably warm, and so Enjolras didn't worry; the rain had never stopped either of the two of them before.

It was when it got dark, and a few of the Amis started appearing from the Musain around the corner that their luck seemed to disappear again.

It was Courfeyrac and Gavroche who spotted them first, rushing over to say hello. Enjolras kicked himself for not telling the Amis of his plans; he could have so easily avoided bumping into anyone, had he made sure that he alerted everyone.

The others also gathered round, and Éponine, pleasantly surprised to see her friends, started making conversation whilst they waited for their main meals.

Marius caught Enjolras' eye, and the revolutionary leader lit up as he remembered that he had at least told Marius that tonight was when he was going to propose to Éponine. Enjolras gave him a look that begged him to get everyone away, at which Marius nodded in understanding, grinning madly as he took Cosette's hand.

"I've heard there's some kind of festival on the other side of the Seine," he said loudly to catch everyone's attention, "It's only there for one night, then it disappears to somewhere else, never returning to the same spot again. Cosette and I were going to go and have a look. Would anyone else care to join us?"

Many of the Amis looked sceptical at Marius' suggestion, but, as Enjolras would think many times afterwards, 'thank the Lord for Gavroche'.

"Oh, please, Courf! Please can we go? Please, please, please?!" he begged, tugging insistently on Courfeyrac's sleeve. The student sighed, but nodded.

"Okay, little Gavroche, if you insist," he said, smiling. Gavroche wooped in delight, earning a few laughs from the other Amis, who said their goodbyes as they followed Marius and Cosette back down the street.

"Are you two coming?" Gavroche called, stopping after ten feet to look back to his sister and Enjolras. Éponine beat Enjolras to answering.

"No thank you, Gavroche," she smiled, "We're having a very romantic dinner. You go and have fun!" Gavroche shrugged.

"Suit yourselves," he grinned, setting off at a run to catch up with the Amis. Enjolras sighed in relief, but he was subtle enough to make sure that Éponine didn't see or hear it.

The rest of the meal was rather uneventful for the two. In fact, very little happened besides the two making conversation and eating frankly the best meal they'd had in a while, until they stood up to leave.

As Éponine pushed her chair back and straightened up, she doubled over, gasping in surprise as she whipped a hand to her bump. Enjolras had skirted around the table in under a second, crouching down worriedly beside her.

"What's wrong?!" he asked, fear and worry for his beloved and their baby replacing every other thought in his head.

"I..." her eyes closed, her face contorted with pain. When she recovered, she continued, "I think Baby's coming.  _Now_." Enjolras was struck speechless for a moment.

"But... but it's not time!" he spluttered, "And the midwife... the midwife's visiting her parents, she's not back until Monday!"

"Well, here's a funny thing, Enjolras," Éponine said through gritted teeth, " _I don't think Baby is waiting that long._ " Enjolras could have hit himself.

"You're right, you're right, sorry," he said, involuntarily starting to ramble, "I just... I have no idea what to do in this situation! I always thought there'd be a midwife there, and that it would be controlled, and that there'd be a medical professional who actually knew what they were doing-" Éponine's hand connecting with his cheek cut him off. She gripped the fabric of his jacket and pulled him closer to her.

"Get. A. Grip." She said firmly, "The midwife's not here, I may or may not be giving birth, and we're getting very funny looks from the other people in this restaurant," she said, "We need to find Joly. Or Combeferre. And you need to calm down and start thinking straight, because if you're falling to pieces then I certainly won't be able to hold it together." Enjolras gaped at her for a second, before shutting his eyes and nodding, collecting his thoughts.

"Right," he agreed, "Joly or Combeferre. Let's go." He threw the money for their dinner onto the table, and supported Éponine with one hand around her waist, the other gripped in her hand, almost being squeezed to the point of breaking as she tried to deal with the pain.

Enjolras tried to recall what the midwife had said about the time when Éponine was going to give birth.

" _Just remember," she said, "Stay calm and don't panic. That's only going to make things worse. The most important thing is that you get her to me, or to a doctor, or things could go wrong for mother and baby."_

The thought did little to comfort him as they slowly made their way to Joly's flat. And, just as his luck would have it (because the night was going every way  _except_  the way he wanted it to go), the second they left the restaurant, it started to rain.  _Heavily_. By the time they reached Joly's apartment, both Enjolras and Éponine were soaked through.

As Éponine's hold on his hand tightened again, Enjolras never thought he'd be as pleased as he was for someone to have an apartment on the ground floor of a building. He hammered relentlessly on Joly's door, before it was opened by a slightly annoyed and very confused looking Joly, who had been reading a very interesting book about the progression of human anatomy, and was rather peeved at being interrupted.

"Enjolras?" he questioned, "Éponine? What is it?"

"We think the baby's coming," Enjolras said, "Right this second. And the midwife's out of town. So, you're our next point of call. Any chance of a hand?" Joly hurriedly helped Enjolras walk Éponine into his flat, sitting her in a chair.

"When did these contractions start?" Joly questioned.

"It was just as we were leaving the restaurant," Enjolras told him, "Ten minutes at the most."

"Did you're waters break?" Joly asked Éponine, crouching down next to her. She frowned for a moment, thinking back.

"No," she said, "They didn't. They definitely didn't."

It was Joly's turn to frown, "Are you sure?" he asked. He reached out to feel her bump, "May I?" Éponine nodded, looking up to Enjolras.

"They didn't break, did they?" she asked him. He shook his head.

"We would have noticed if they had," he assured her. Joly smiled slightly, straightening up after feeling Éponine's bump. 

"You're not giving birth," he said, "Not yet anyway. The baby hasn't engaged yet- that means it's not moving into place to get ready for the birth. This kind of thing happens sometimes, I believe, not that I'm an expert. Just make sure you tell the midwife when she's back, and don't overexert yourself, 'Ponine. The baby obviously didn't like something that happened tonight, so it thought it'd give you a bit of a shock. The contractions should stop soon enough, just try not to break Enjolras' hand in the meantime." He smirked, seeing the tight hold Éponine still had on her beloved's hand.

Éponine and Enjolras stayed until the contractions had subsided and said their goodbyes to Joly, making their way home, the streets covered in puddles, but the rain having eased to a drizzle. Éponine was exhausted and was silently panicking about what the real birth was going to be like; if this was how she felt after such a small insight, how would she feel after the real thing?! It made her shudder just thinking about it.

Enjolras on the other hand was positively distraught that his perfect night had been cut short. Though glad that Éponine and the baby were still safe and well, he had yet to present her with the ring he still had concealed in his pocket.

They walked slowly back to their flat in silence, content with each other's company, but both occupied with other thoughts.

It wasn't until they reached the door to their apartment that Enjolras was struck by a realisation.

"Wait," he said, catching Éponine's hand as she went to open the door. She frowned in confusion.

"What is it?" she asked. He smiled.

"I may not have been telling the truth when I said that there was nothing special about tonight," he told her, "And I so desperately wanted it to be perfect. I had it all planned out in my head, every little detail. I truly thought that it was flawless, perfect in every way. But then things started getting in the way, and going wrong and I thought that I'd have to abandon the whole thing and wait for another time, wait for the next perfect moment.

"But now... I don't want it to be perfect. Because the best thing about our lives is that  _nothing_  is perfect, but we still love the way we live. And I know that I love you unconditionally and will do for every minute of every hour of every day that I am alive. So, Éponine Thénardier..." he crouched down onto one knee, taking the ring out of his pocket with one hand and taking her hand in his with the other, "Would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

Éponine's eyes shone with tears as she smiled happily, "Yes! A thousand times, yes!" Enjolras smiled in a way he never had before, a smile of pure happiness and love, magnified a hundred times as he slipped the simple silver ring onto Éponine's finger.

As he rose to his feet again, Éponine kissed him passionately, then wrapped her arms around his neck in an embrace that neither of them ever wanted to break away from.


	22. The Best Times Two

**What if Enjolras and Éponine were faced with a typical parental problem: DIY?**

"Why  _do_  you call your baby 'Baby', 'Ponine?" Gavroche threw the random question at Éponine one night in the Musain.

"Well, we don't know if it's a boy or a girl yet," Éponine pointed out, "'Baby' doesn't indicate in either direction."

"But you  _always_  call it a she!" Gavroche protested, "Why don't you just pick a name now, then you won't just have to keep calling it 'Baby'."

"He has a point, 'Ponine," Courf grinned, "And why 'Baby'? Why not 'the baby'? You know, less... direct?"

"Because Baby is a part of the family and deserves to be treated like it." Éponine said firmly.

"But just calling it 'Baby' is being just as dicrim... disrimi... discim..."

"Discriminating?" Courf offered.

"That's the one," Gavroche nodded, "That's like me calling you 'sister' all the time. Everyone deserves a  _name_."

"Well, until we know for sure if Baby is a he or a she, Baby's name is 'Baby'," Éponine said exasperatedly, "Enjolras, could you give me a hand with this?!" Enjolras came over from the table he'd been sat at with Marius and Grantaire (the latter of whom still refusing to spill any details on the 'her' (or 'he') that he had mentioned the week before).

"Give you a hand with what?"

"Is it not logical to call Baby 'Baby' until we find out if it is a he or a she?" Éponine asked him. He nodded.

"Well, yes," he said, "Though we do keep referring to Baby as 'she'..."

"Ha!" Gavroche laughed triumphantly, "Told you so!"

" _But_  by calling it 'Baby', it removes some of the embarrassment that could be inflicted upon us, if we  _did_ name Baby as if it was a 'she', when it actually turned out to be a 'he'." Enjolras finished.

"Either I've had too much alcohol, or that really was as confusing as it sounded..." Courf muttered.

"Look, the point is, it's our baby and not yours, so stop questioning it." Éponine said firmly, sending frankly terrifying glares in Courfeyrac and Gavroche's direction.

It was safe to say that the subject didn't come up again.

* * *

"Enjolras?" Éponine's voice distracted him as he knelt on the wooden floor of the bigger of their spare bedrooms, a half-assembled crib in front of him.

Éponine, who had been sitting at the dining table, appeared in the doorway. She smiled at his so unnaturally dishevelled appearance; his jacket was tossed aside, the buttons of his waistcoat undone and the sleeves of his white shirt messily rolled up to his elbows. The knees of his trousers were slightly grey with dust.

"Yes, dearest Éponine?" he questioned, pausing in his task, standing up and brushing the dust from his knees.

"Would I be a bad friend if I made Cosette have to suffer through the amount of wedding planning that she made me go through?" Enjolras couldn't help but laugh at her question.

"Not at all," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and interlinking his fingers as his hands rested on the small of her back, "In fact, I have absolutely no doubt that she'll murder you if you don't let her help." Éponine smiled.

"You're right," she nodded, "And I don't have a death wish." Enjolras shrugged.

"To be honest with you, Ép, I don't even think Cosette will see it as 'suffering'..." Éponine smirked.

"She will when I make it as difficult for her as I'm planning to..."

It was almost a week after Enjolras' not-so-perfect proposal, and plans for a wedding were not in the near future; currently, the pair were far too occupied with the fact that Baby was on its way, and they were far from prepared. Hence the half-assembled crib and the fact that Éponine had been sewing a patchwork quilt constantly for the best part of a week. They had gifts from friends coming in left right and centre, seeing as Éponine really hadn't been bothered with a baby shower. Cosette had been very unimpressed, but had seemed slightly happier when Éponine promised to throw her the mother of all baby showers when her and Marius decided to start a family.

Enjolras smirked at her response, wrapping her in a hug. Éponine kissed him lightly on the lips before resting her head on his chest and surveying the mess on the floor of their new nursery, "What are you doing?"

"Building a crib..." he said, frowning as he looked around at his creation, "It's not going very well. Feuilly got a friend of his to write down some instructions of how to put the different parts together but... I'm not convinced he's got them right. The bloody thing just won't fit right!"

"Maybe you're doing it wrong," Éponine said, looking up at him with raised eyebrows, "I have always been told that men are  _useless_  when it comes to following instructions..."

"I resent that, mademoiselle!" he said in mock offense. Éponine just laughed.

"Shall I try?" she asked, taking his hands in hers fondly, "I always enjoyed building little houses for my dolls when I was little. This can't be much different." Enjolras frowned again.

"'Ponine, I think this may be slightly different to creating little houses with bits of wood and old books," he said sceptically. Éponine raised her eyebrows.

"Challenge accepted." She said seriously, dropping his hands and approaching the half-a-crib, "Why don't you go and get lunch, and I'll sort the crib?"

"Lunch?" Enjolras said, sounding confused, poking his head out of the door to look at the clock at the end of the hall. He cursed silently, "I was supposed to meet Marius for a government thing twenty minutes ago..." he grumbled, "I lost track of time."

"Even more of a reason for me to take over then," she said, shoving him playfully, "Go for your meeting. I can handle this."

"Are you sure?" he asked, sounding concerned, "It just doesn't seem right to leave my fiancé home alone when she's eight and a half months pregnant and wanting to attempt to build a crib..."

"I. Will. Be.  _Fine_. Apollo." She promised, smiling at his concern. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and his slid around to rest on her back automatically, "Vive la France, remember? I'm a part of this revolution too. At the end of the day, the crib can wait until tomorrow and I'll just put my feet up until you get back. Your meeting is more important." Enjolras sighed, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"I love you, 'Ponine," he said quietly, astounded by how persistent she was that he put his cause before something involving both her and their child. No woman his parents could have matched him with could or would ever compare.

"I love you too," she said, "Now go," she shoved him playfully out the door and he stumbled (again, rather unlike himself) halfway down the hall, "France can't run itself you know, and if you leave it in the hands of those blundering government officials for another second, so help me, I will get very angry."

Enjolras made a face, "Scary 'Ponine," he muttered, a phrase that he and Gavroche currently used often whilst in the company of Éponine. He smiled jokingly as she glared at him, walking the few paces back to the door quickly to kiss her on the cheek. She blushed slightly, smiling.

"Bring me back a pastry," she called to him, re-entering the spare room.

"Of course," he replied, and she smiled as she heard the front door close and his footsteps echo down the stairs.

Éponine placed one hand on her bump and the other on her hip as she surveyed the mess on the floor, trying to work out which piece was which, let alone which went where.

"Right..." she muttered to herself, "Now the question is: do I admit that I need help now, or wait until later...?"

* * *

This was what brought her to the Musain, approaching Courfeyrac and Feuilly who were sitting at a table, Courfeyrac staring blankly at a page in a book, Feuilly staring at Courfeyrac amusedly.

"'Ponine!" Courfeyrac grinned, noticing her come in. Feuilly nodded his hello, "What are you doing here on your own? Enjolras finally annoyed you out of your mind?" Éponine smiled inwardly, rather glad that the Amis apparently didn't know about Enjolras' proposal.

"No," she said, raising her eyebrows at his question disapprovingly, "He's gone to a meeting with Marius about the government. I came to ask a favour."

Courfeyrac gestured for her to sit in the last remaining seat at the table, both he and Feuilly now considerably more interested.

"Feuilly, you know the friend of yours who wrote down the instructions for the crib we have for Baby?" she asked.

"Yes..." he frowned, "Did he write something wrong?"

"Well, that's the thing..." Éponine laughed quietly, "I have  _absolutely_ no idea! Enjolras started on it this morning, but he was complaining that it 'wasn't fitting right'. Then he realised that he was late for his meeting with Marius, so I said I'd take care of it. But I can't even distinguish each piece from the next, let alone work out how they form a crib! I'd probably mistake the lot of it for firewood if I didn't know any better..."

"So, what you're saying is..." Courfeyrac grinned, "You need our help?"

Éponine rolled her eyes, but nodded, "I'd like for it to be finished by the time Enjolras got back, as a surprise." Feuilly and Courfeyrac grinned at each other.

"Let's go build a crib."

* * *

By the time Enjolras came home, Éponine was lying on the sofa, her back leaning against one armrest, her feet resting on the other, book in hand with a cup of tea on the table beside her.

He kissed the top of her head as he reached her, "Did you manage without me?"

"Of course," she smiled, "I told you I'd be fine. Did you remember my pastry?"

"Of course," he mimicked her, placing said pastry on a plate from the kitchen before passing it to her.

"Thank you," she smiled. Enjolras lifted her legs up so that he could sit under them on the sofa, and Éponine shifted slightly so that she could rest her feet on his lap.

"Did you finish the crib?" he asked. From the pure curiosity on his face, Éponine could tell that he'd been dying to ask the question from the second she could hear him coming up the stairs.

"The crib is finished," she said after swallowing a mouthful of pastry; she wasn't technically lying after all. The crib  _was_  finished. Enjolras just didn't need to know that it was actually Feuilly and Courfeyrac who had finished it.

Enjolras smiled, "I'm impressed," he said, his smile turning to a smirk, "What did you bribe Courfeyrac and Feuilly with?" Éponine dropped her pastry in shock (luckily for her, she had been holding it over the plate).

"How did you know?!" she demanded. Enjolras chuckled.

"Honestly, Athena, what happened to your wisdom?" he asked jokily, "You of all people should know that those two can't keep a secret to save their lives. All I did was bump into them at the bakery and ask casually about what they'd been doing today! They were blabbing about the crib within five seconds!"

Éponine groaned, "Well, it's not my fault," she grumbled, "I'm pregnant. I don't know  _what_  I'm feeling. My burst of overconfidence when it came to the crib was purely down to the fact that I currently have a little human being growing inside me."

Enjolras' eyes twinkled as he smiled, resting his hand on her bump and feeling the now familiar sensation of the baby kicking. The look of love on his face made Éponine smile. She rested her hand on top of his, faintly feeling the baby kicking under his hand.

"We can do this, can't we?" she asked, "We can be parents."

"Of course we can," Enjolras replied firmly, "Baby will be the best thing that's happened to us."

"Except for the rebellion," Éponine said, "That was what first brought us together, and therefore it's the best."

"You can't have two things that are the best, Éponine," Enjolras said, his eyebrows raised in amusement.

"Well you can, because we do," Éponine said firmly, "The barricades, and the Baby. Two best things."

Enjolras, knowing better than to argue when Éponine was in this mood, just squeezed her hand, "Whatever you say, dearest Athena." Éponine nodded triumphantly, finishing the last of her pastry.

"All of this giving in to my demands isn't good for my ego, you know," she said, nonetheless grateful. She was exhausted; now nearing the end of her pregnancy, it was taking its toll, and she could barely stay on her feet for ten minutes without getting tired.

"Does it make you happy?" he asked.

"It doesn't make me  _un_ happy..." she said cheekily. He smiled.

"Then it's worth it." He said, his tone definite. She rolled her eyes.

"Baby is going to have you wrapped around their little finger within thirty seconds." She said, her tone light and uncritical. He frowned.

"I'm not  _that_  easily swayed," he said, "I  _did_  lead a revolution... and then infiltrated the government buildings... and now infiltrate the government..."

"Yes, yes, alright, Monsieur 'I'm a successful republican'..." Éponine rolled her eyes, "But, really. Baby is going to be able to manipulate you better than Cosette manipulates Marius."

"Ouch," Enjolras winced, "That was a low blow, 'Ponine. Do you really think I'm that weak?"

"Weak? Not at all," Éponine shook her head, "But everything will be different for Baby. Mark my words." Enjolras didn't push it further; Éponine had that look in her eye: the one that just made you know that she was right. And he honestly didn't want her to tell him just how easily Baby would be able to change his mind.

"We'll be fine," he repeated. Éponine nodded.

"The best parents there's ever been." She added.

"And Baby will be perfect."

"The best." Éponine and Enjolras shared a look that was rather rare between the two.

It was a look of complete agreement and understanding. It was a look that summed up their entire relationship and reminded both of them why they were now about to start a family and plans for their wedding.

It was the look that gave the other something to live for. And it truly was the best.


	23. Infinite Relations and a Revelation

**What if a (drunk) Grantaire tried to persuade Enjolras to let him be the baby's godfather?**

"Apollo. Apollo.  _Apollo. APOLLO!_ "

" _Yes_ , Grantaire?!" Enjolras questioned irritably. Grantaire had been drowning himself in whatever alcohol was put in front of him for the last hour and a half, and the effects were certainly not hidden.

"You..." he paused to hiccup, "You're going to be a father."

"Funnily enough, Grantaire, that hadn't escaped my notice." Enjolras noted dryly. Grantaire clasped a hand on Enjolras' shoulder, dragging him away from the book he was reading.

"You... are going to have a  _baby_ , Enjolras. A tiny little human being, that's half  _you_. There's going to be half a mini Enjolras running around! Can you  _imagine_  that?! A little  _you_!"

"Yes, Grantaire, I can imagine it," Enjolras said, rolling his eyes; he supposed he should be glad that there had been at least one constant in his life since the rebellion: Grantaire and his drunkenness. However, his persistency to state the blatantly obvious whilst drunk was enough to drive Enjolras up the wall.

Éponine was now nine months pregnant and she could give birth at any point. She had taken to staying at home, saying that she 'wasn't risking going into labour in a restaurant again', but forced Enjolras out of the flat, making sure he didn't miss out on anything simply because she needed to dash for the bathroom every two minutes.

"A tiny, little, adorable, small..." Grantaire suddenly gasped as an idea struck him, " _I_  could be its godfather!" Enjolras' eyes widened.

"You... you're... I...  _what?!_ " Enjolras stuttered, looking at Grantaire as if he was mad, " _You_?! Be... being mine and Éponine's child's  _godfather_?! The one person in the entire world that 'Ponine and I have to trust to look after our baby if for some reason we can't?  _You_?!"

"Of course!" Grantaire exclaimed, "Who else?! I am your best friend after all, but..." he looked around conspicuously, "Don't tell Pontmercy. He'll go all sulky like he normally does."

"Grantaire, with all due respect..." Enjolras frowned; it wouldn't do him any good to upset his friend. He was, after all, a business associate, someone that Enjolras had to work with week in, week out, and it would hardly bode well for France if he upset his only impartial advisor.

"It's rude to keep people waiting, Apollo," Grantaire complained, "Finish your godforsaken sentence!"

"With all due respect, I'm not sure you're the best person to entrust our child's life to." Enjolras said as carefully as possible. Grantaire's face visibly fell as Enjolras' words sunk in, and the revolutionary leader automatically felt guilty.

"Only because..." he said quickly, desperately trying to think up an excuse, "Because... you're more of an uncle figure! The fun one! 'Ponine and I don't want you constantly worrying about our child's safety. Being a godfather is all about the responsibility, but an  _uncle..._   _that_ ' _s_  the best title. You'll be Uncle Grantaire: the one Baby can always have fun with. Doesn't that sound better than having to concentrate on safety?"

Grantaire frowned in thought, obviously considering what Enjolras had said, before he grinned madly, "You're right!" he exclaimed, "Being a godfather is boring. I suggest you give such a role to Combeferre, or Pontmercy," he said thoughtfully, "An uncle is much better. Everyone loves uncles. I'm... I'm going to be an uncle!"

Enjolras stopped himself from rolling his eyes once again; when dealing with a drunk Grantaire, it very much made Enjolras make similarities between that and looking after a small child.

"Yes, Grantaire," he said, his face stretched into a reluctant and forced smile, "Yes you are..."

* * *

When Enjolras got home later that night, he collapsed onto the sofa, exhausted from five hours of putting up with a drunk Grantaire, a very-much-in-love Marius and Cosette, and the rest of the Amis, most of whom apparently couldn't be bothered with matters of the state that night.

Les Amis de l'ABC was still very much the group it was when it started out; many of its members were still at university, studying for degrees in many different areas, and, although Enjolras now employed Marius, Grantaire and Éponine as his personal advisors, he always took the most important matters of state to the Amis. They often engaged in some kind of debate regarding the future of France, and Enjolras was glad that, even though their original plight for freedom succeeded, his friends still understood that there was more to be done.

Éponine, having heard him come in from in the bedroom where she had been reading in bed, came out to meet him.

"How was your evening?" she asked him, moving to sit on the sofa next to him.

"Exhausting," Enjolras muttered, "Oh, and Grantaire currently thinks that he's going to be the uncle of our child. It was that or godfather," he said when he saw the disapproval flash across her face. She sighed.

"We'll have to make some kind of arrangement about that... preferably when he's sober and thinking relatively straight..." she said, resting her head on his shoulder. His arm found its way around her waist, pulling her closer to him. "Then again, he'd make a good uncle," she mused, "He'd be the fun one."

Enjolras chuckled, "That's exactly what I said." Éponine smiled.

"Gavroche is the uncle they'll always look up to," she continued, "Courfeyrac will be the one who will make Baby laugh. Jehan will help them find their first love. Combeferre will be the one they come to when they need someone sensible. Joly will patch them up when they fall over, and nurse them back to health when they're sick. Feuilly will teach them how to make fans, and will tell them all about the revolution their parents were a part of."

Enjolras sat back slightly so that he could see her face, "You've thought all of this through, haven't you?" Éponine blushed.

"I might have done," she said flippantly, before being serious again, "But I thought that maybe we could make Marius and Cosette godparents."

"Agreed," Enjolras muttered, moving back so that Éponine's head was on his shoulder again, "I think we'd have to fear for our lives if we didn't allow it."

"What will you tell Grantaire?" she asked. Enjolras grimaced.

"He was  _very_  drunk..." he told her, "Very,  _very_  drunk. I doubt he'll wake up tomorrow remembering anything but the fact that he really should have taken it a bit easier."

* * *

Enjolras' statement was confirmed the next afternoon, when both he and Éponine (who had agreed to come out after nearly a week of shutting herself in their flat) went to the Musain to see everyone.

Grantaire, in complete contrast to the night before when he had been excited about the prospect of being an uncle, was nursing a massive headache and would glare anyone who spoke too loud into silence.

"I'm getting too old for this..." he muttered bitterly as Enjolras and Éponine sat opposite him and Combeferre.

"Perhaps," Enjolras smirked, "Or maybe you should have considered the consequences before challenging Courfeyrac to a drinking competition."

"I won!" Grantaire protested defensively.

"And now you're suffering!" Éponine laughed, "Do you even remember last night?" both Éponine and Enjolras had agreed to not mention anything about any of the Amis being uncles; not just yet anyway.

"I remember..." Grantaire frowned before shrugging, "Nope, sorry, don't remember a thing." Éponine and Enjolras both laughed, causing Grantaire to rest his head on his arms, moaning in pain, "Will you two keep it down?"

This really only made the pair laugh even harder, and now even Combeferre was joining in.

The evening progressed slowly, which Éponine was grateful for; it felt like so long since she had simply sat and talked with her friends. It was a reminder that she felt she needed at that precise moment, after a week of being almost completely alone, save for Enjolras' much needed company.

Marius and Cosette arrived at just gone nine; they had been much more sociable since Éponine had told Marius to get off his high horse, and often appeared out of the blue for a chat with their friends.

It was Cosette who caused the next bout of excitement for the group.

"Éponine..." she said, frowning curiously, "What's that?"

Éponine looked confused, "What's what?" she questioned, taking another sip of her water.

"That... on your finger."

Éponine and Enjolras shared a look as they both realised that they still hadn't told their friends of their engagement.

"Oh, er, that..." she murmured awkwardly, cursing her luck; she had gotten used to taking her engagement ring off before going out to see the Amis, still not quite ready to tell their friends that they were getting married. However, after a week of being home alone with no need to take the ring off, it had slipped her mind to do what she could to disguise their secret, "You see, Enjolras and I..." she looked to him to finish her sentence and he smiled slightly.

"I proposed to Éponine," he said quietly, trying desperately to not make a big deal out of it, despite the fact that he felt it was the biggest deal at that current moment.

"YOU  _WHAT_?!"

The chorus echoed through the Musain, earning the group a glare from the woman behind the bar. They looked around at each other as if trying to confirm that what they had just heard was right.

"You two are... getting married?"

"Enjolras, man of marble, who once stated that Patria was his one and only love... getting  _married_?!"

"Éponine who used to follow Marius' ever move like his second shadow... marrying  _Enjolras_ , of all people?!"

"You all make it sound so surprising," Éponine laughed, "We've been together for over a year now. We're having a baby for goodness sakes! Why on Earth are you all so shocked?!"

"Well," Marius shrugged awkwardly, "It just... didn't seem like the kind of thing you two would want to do."

"Exactly," Courfeyrac nodded, "We thought you two would be that couple who were just perfect and didn't need to get married because everyone already knew that you'd be together forever."

"How very poetic, Courf," Grantaire teased, his headache passed somewhat since earlier on in the evening (though that may just be the alcohol talking).

Enjolras snorted, "Who's to say we're doing this for anyone else?" he questioned, "Me and 'Ponine  _want_  to get married. That  _is_  the general idea, after all. Marriage isn't a social status."

"Actually, it kind of is..." Combeferre started, but stopped at Éponine's glare, "Well, we're all very happy for the two of you," he said hastily. There were nods and words of agreement from the other Amis, and Cosette squealed excitedly.

"Oh! Éponine, please,  _please_  let me help you plan the wedding! I won't go overboard, I swear, and I'll run everything past you and I'll make sure it's all perfect and-"

"Cosette!" Éponine interrupted her, laughing, "I've already decided that I want your help. I'll probably need it. But we're not even  _thinking_  about the wedding until after Baby gets here. One thing at a time, you know?" Cosette nodded.

"Of course," she said understandingly before smiling madly, "Oh, Éponine! I can't believe you're finally getting married!" there were tears of happiness in her eyes and Éponine glanced at Enjolras, who didn't seem to know whether to laugh hysterically or roll his eyes at Éponine's best friend's reaction to the news.

The other Amis all congratulated Enjolras and Éponine personally, and it wasn't until much later that anyone actually questioned the matter again.

"So, hang on," Courfeyrac frowned, "When did this actually... happen? When did you actually propose?"

"Joly, you remember a few weeks ago when I went into that... false labour thing?" Éponine asked. Joly nodded.

"It was the night when almost everyone else was out and about, and I stayed home to study," he said.

"We went to the festival across the Seine," Marius said smugly. The other Amis gasped in recognition, their eyes wide.

"You sneaky little..." Courfeyrac muttered, "I can't believe you managed that, Pontmercy! You fooled all of us!"

"You knew and you didn't tell me?!" Cosette shrieked, "Marius! How could you?!"

"I'm afraid that's my fault," Enjolras said, once again unsure as to how to react to Cosette's outburst, "He was sworn to secrecy." Cosette huffed, but seemed reasonably satisfied with this explanation.

As Marius muttered his apologies to his wife, Éponine yawned, barely making it discrete. Enjolras noted and stood up immediately.

"Well, everyone, it's late. 'Ponine and I should be going." Éponine nodded, and Enjolras helped her up, one hand securely on her arm, the other on her back. She sighed.

"I'm getting a bit tired of Baby giving me backache..." she complained, "The sooner he or she is out, the better in my opinion." This earned a few chuckles from the Amis nearest to her.

"I'm sure Baby will be more than happy to come out, Éponine," Combeferre laughed.

Saying their final goodbyes, Enjolras and Éponine left the Musain, hand in hand.

"You really don't know how to deal with Cosette, do you?" Éponine said suddenly. Enjolras groaned.

"The woman's just so... unpredictable!" he exclaimed, "You can never tell if she's going to under react, or overreact, or whether she's going to happy or annoyed or upset with the news you're going to give her..." he trailed off exasperatedly.

"You'll get used to her," Éponine assured him.

"After over a year, I'm not sure you can say that, Éponine," Enjolras said frowning.

"Well, you'll learn how to disguise your true feelings when talking to her, then," she shrugged, "I managed it."

"You're extraordinary," he said as if that explained everything. She rolled her eyes, yawning again. "Come on," he said, picking up their walking pace slightly, "Let's get home."

"Agreed," Éponine said, resting her head on Enjolras' shoulder and squeezing his hand lovingly, thinking that perhaps some alone time with her beloved wasn't so bad at all, and that a night out with her friends whilst nine months pregnant was  _seriously_  overrated.

* * *

Later on, Enjolras somewhat understood why Éponine had wanted to keep their engagement a secret. 

"You got lucky, Enjolras," Grantaire smirked when Enjolras turned up at the Musain later on in the week. Éponine was having a 'girls night' with Cosette (he didn't want to know) seeing as she was still pretty much confined to their apartment, so he had made the effort to go and see his friends without using his now fiancée as an excuse.

"How so?" Enjolras asked, frowning.

"Athena is pregnant and emotional," he chuckled, "Of  _course_  she was going to say yes!" Enjolras rolled his eyes.

"Jealousy doesn't suit you, Grantaire," he said, smirking. Grantaire spluttered.

" _Jealous_?!" he exclaimed, "I'm not  _jealous_! Why would you say something like that?! Besides, I don't  _need_  to be jealous, as it just so happens-" he froze in his words, causing Enjolras, Courfeyrac and Combeferre to all lean in a little more, their faces lit up with curiosity.

"It just so happens...  _what_ , Grantaire?" Courfeyrac questioned, also smirking at the drunkard.

"Nothing." Grantaire said quietly, "There's absolutely nothing... nothing's happened."

"You're a terrible liar, you know," Combeferre said, "But it's alright."

"It is?" Grantaire said hopefully.

"Of course!" Enjolras said, his face now showing an expression that was a lot less harmless than curiosity, "The amount you drink, your tongue will be loose enough for us to get it out of you before the end of the night!" Grantaire gulped, looking at the bottle in front of him, pushing it aside and stalking out of the Musain looking positively murderous.

"Oh, come on, Grantaire!" Courf called after him, laughing, "Be a good sport! We only want to know her name!"

"Are you sure it's a her?" Combeferre pointed out, "I always thought... well,  _you_ Enjolras." This time it was Enjolras' turn to splutter.

" _Me_?!"

"Well, we all thought... maybe," Courf shrugged, "Then you got with Éponine, and Grantaire was completely fine with it. Oh, Christ, no one tell Feuilly, I do  _not_  have enough money to pay off that kind of debt..."

"You took  _bets_  on whether I was going to end up with Grantaire?!" Enjolras' eyes were wide, "I'm not gay!"

"Well, neither is Grantaire, apparently." Courf grinned.

"Well, we don't actually know that..." Enjolras said uneasily. Now that he thought about it, Grantaire's reluctance to join the revolution  _had_  disappeared when Enjolras himself had asked him to join...

"Well, we figured you were so in love with your country, Enjolras, that you were... you know, open to anything," Combeferre chuckled, "Besides, we took bets on whether or not you'd end up with Éponine as well." Enjolras shook his head; this was most definitely another thing he didn't want to know.


	24. A Rather Spontaneous Arrival

**What if Baby's birth didn't go exactly as planned?**

"Enjolras, I don't think you've truly thought about the implications of Éponine having your child." Enjolras frowned confusedly at his father.

"What do you mean?" he asked. When he had received his father's letter asking him to come home for a day (alone), Enjolras had made the arrangements as soon as possible, worried about what his father wanted to talk to him about. He had left Éponine in the capable hands of Combeferre and Courfeyrac, with a promise from Gavroche to come and find him at his parents' house immediately if anything happened.

However, now that Enjolras was there, he felt that he had had something of a wasted journey.

"Pregnancy is never an easy thing for women," his father explained, "Though they often insist that men don't understand, sometimes men understand perfectly, though it often takes a shock to make them realise it. Not only is pregnancy difficult for women, it can be... dangerous." Enjolras visibly stiffened.

"What do you mean, 'dangerous'?" he questioned, considerably more worried about Éponine now that he had heard this news and was miles away from her.

"There is a reason you were an only child," his father started haltingly, "Your mother and I always wanted many children when we were first married. We had it all planned. I had a stable job and I was bringing in a lot of money. We had the means to look after four, maybe even five, children. When your mother first became pregnant with you, we were overjoyed. The pregnancy was all completely fine... until your mother went into labour.

"There were... complications. The midwife and the doctor never fully explained it. But your mother almost died, as did you. As I understand it, if we had not been privileged enough to have both a midwife and a doctor present, you both  _would_  have died. It was because of this that we both agreed to never even try for another child. The consequences could have been too great. So we spent all of our time on you, spoiling you, making sure you wanted for nothing and that you were always happy. We knew that we were lucky to both be here to see you grow up."

"And you think this could happen to Éponine?!" Enjolras asked worriedly.

"It could happen to anyone, Enjolras," his father shrugged, "I just thought it better to make sure that you were informed of the fact." Enjolras nodded absentmindedly, his thoughts now completely focused on Éponine.

Perhaps they had been stupid. His father was right; neither of them had ever assumed that the implications of Éponine being pregnant could be as severe as  _death_. He couldn't live without her, he knew that for sure. But they had both become so attached to Baby, despite he or she not being born yet. He knew that, if he had to make a choice, he would choose to save Éponine above the baby. But would Éponine agree? He didn't think so.

His thoughts were interrupted by a series of shouts and the sound of someone running down the corridor leading to the living room. Gavroche burst through the doors, the sound of one of Enjolras' parents' maids chasing him.

"Excuse me, monsieur, but you can't just come in! I'm going to have to ask you to leave!"

"Don't worry, Matilda, I know this boy," Enjolras waved her off as she entered the room behind a panting Gavroche, "Gavroche, why are you here? Has something happened?"

"You... you need to come... quickly!" Gavroche said, still panting slightly, "I came... as fast as I could... ran all the way here. You need to come back, Enjolras!  _Right now_!"

"Gavroche, calm down," Enjolras said, kneeling in front of the boy, "What's happening?"

Gavroche smiled slightly, "The baby's coming!"

Enjolras froze where he was, not knowing whether to be overjoyed or overcome with worry. Gavroche sighed, almost angry, and tapped Enjolras on the cheek.

"No time to panic," he insisted, "We need to go. 'Ponine needs you, Enjolras! No one else: you." This was enough to snap Enjolras out of his shocked stupor, and he stood up, not even bothering to say goodbye to his father or the maid who still stood shocked in the door way. He ran out of the house, Gavroche on his heels, and skidded to a stop in front of his parents' carriage, where the driver was waiting for him. He helped Gavroche in before getting in himself.

"Where is she, Gavroche?" he asked desperately.

"At your flat," Gavroche said breathlessly, tired out after all the running he'd had to do. Enjolras relayed this to the driver, who set off immediately after hearing the tone of urgency in Enjolras' voice. The revolutionary leader collapsed back into the seat, his mind going around in circles, always getting back to a single thing:

_Is Éponine going to be alright?_

* * *

He ran up the stairs to their flat three at a time, not even bothering to wait for Gavroche. He burst into his and Éponine's flat and could hear the midwife's soothing voice through the open door to their bedroom. He dashed in, crouching beside the bed to hold Éponine's hand as she tried to breathe through another contraction.

"I... I thought... that you weren't coming." She said, her face contorted in pain. He smiled slightly through his concern.

"And miss the birth of our child? You didn't really believe that I'd let that happen, did you?" she chuckled slightly, before gasping in pain, her free hand whipping to her bump.

"How long... until this...  _stops_?!" she asked desperately. The midwife smiled apologetically.

"Every birth is different," she told her, "Some take ten minutes, some take forty-eight hours." Éponine's eyes widened.

" _Two days?!_ " she shrieked, "If you think I'm doing this for two days then you can forget about it!"

Enjolras stroked her hand with his thump comfortingly as the midwife's trainee wiped sweat from Éponine's forehead with a rag, "It'll be fine," he said soothingly, "Just think about afterwards, when you can hold Baby in your arms and look at his or her little face. It'll all be worth it."

"I really wish you could feel the pain I'm in right now," she growled, "I swear to god, Enjolras,  _nothing_  can possibly be worth this."

"Baby can," he said firmly, "And you know it." Éponine's face soften slightly.

"I do know," she said quietly, "I'm sorry. I'm just... I can't do this, Enjolras. I swear, all of the beatings I went through from my father and his gang... that was  _nothing_ compare to this."

"You  _can_  do it, 'Ponine," he said, kissing her forehead, "I know you. You're the strongest woman I know. If anyone can do it, you can." She smiled, before squeezing his hand tightly as she was hit with yet another contraction.

"If this is what I'm like..." she muttered, "I dread to think about how Cosette is going to cope when she and Marius decide to have children."

The midwife interrupted the two, "Éponine, I think it's time for you to start pushing."

"Oh, joy," she said sarcastically. The midwife smiled wanly, looking like she'd heard it all before.

As Éponine began pushing Enjolras stayed loyally at her side, murmuring soothing words of encouragement, despite the fact that the midwife had suggested that he should leave. The midwife's trainee stood beside the midwife herself, holding a blanket ready to take the baby.

It was a further ten minutes before the baby was born, screaming the entire apartment block down. Éponine looked to the midwife desperately, and Enjolras was, for the third time in under an hour, frozen with shock. As the midwife's trainee wrapped the baby in the blanket, she smiled at the pair.

"Congratulations," she said, handing the still-screaming baby to Éponine, "You've got a little girl." Éponine fell back against the pillows, the baby on her chest, tears of happiness rolling down her cheeks. Enjolras also had tears in his eyes, peering at their daughter wrapped tightly in the blanket with a disbelieving smile on his face.

"We've got a daughter," he said quietly, as if him saying it would make it a bit more real. Éponine just nodded, struck speechless by the tiny girl in her arms.

"Relax whilst you can, Éponine," the midwife said grimly, "There's another on the way." Éponine bolted upright, careful not to damage the baby in her eyes. Enjolras' head whipped round to stare at the midwife.

"What do you mean 'another'?!" Éponine demanded, "Another  _what_?!"

"Another baby," the midwife said, "It's twins. Didn't you know?"

"Do we currently look like two people who knew that they were having twins?!" Enjolras asked, barely believing his ears.  _Twins_?!

"Did you go to see a doctor before you came to me?" the midwife asked, frowning, "He should have told you that you were having twins."

Éponine and Enjolras looked at each other and both sighed, "Combeferre." They said simultaneously.

"I told you we should have gone to a qualified doctor," Éponine said accusingly.

"Combeferre  _is_  qualified!" Enjolras argued.

"He was only qualified for a few weeks when we went to see him!" Éponine said, "That's  _barely_  qualified!"

"If I could interrupt the two of you for just a moment," the midwife said loudly, "I need some peace." Her face was set in a concerned frowned as she felt Éponine's still big baby bump.

"Is... is there something wrong?" Enjolras asked, suddenly worried for his other child; anyone would say that Enjolras couldn't possibly feel a strong connection with the other baby due to the fact that he'd only known about it for about thirty seconds. Enjolras would promptly disagree; this baby was his child after all. He would always love him or her, whether he had known about their existence for thirty seconds or thirty years.

"The baby's breeched," the midwife sighed, "Not uncommon with twins. Doesn't make it any less dangerous." Enjolras' face paled, thoughts of what his father had said rushing back into his head.

"How dangerous?" Éponine asked, her face determined.

The midwife looked both thoughtful and apologetic, "Normally, we'd try to turn the baby. It's not particularly difficult, though it's only successful around a quarter of the time. The only problem is that baby is already on their way... I honestly don't think we have  _time_  to turn it. That means that he or she is going to have to come out feet first, which is more dangerous for baby and mother. All that extra stress on you, Éponine... there's a very large possibility that it won't end well. "

Éponine looked up to Enjolras, her eyes meeting his before looking down at the baby in her arms. In that second that their eyes met, he understood.

"You can't," he muttered, "I won't lose you, 'Ponine. It's almost happened twice already. I'm not prepared to risk it a third time."

"I have to," she said, tears in her eyes, "This is our child, Enjolras. The child we didn't know we were going to have. I know it sounds silly but... already I feel this attachment to it. I can't risk losing it, Enjolras, I just can't." Enjolras sighed, looking away, knowing that he had felt exactly the same thing.

He kissed her lightly on the lips as she passed him the baby. "I love you, Éponine," he said, leaning his forehead against hers.

"And I love you," she said quietly, "Look after Baby."

"Of course," he said, kissing her one last time before being ushered out of the room by the midwife's trainee, and having the door shut behind him.

Enjolras sat on the sofa, the baby in his arms, with his eyes tightly shut as he tried to stop tears spilling from them. He and Éponine both knew that Éponine would rather risk her life than risk the baby's. The bundle in his arms, considerably quieter compared to when she was first brought into the world, gurgled, causing Enjolras to open his eyes to identify the source of the sound. The look on the baby's face made him smile, despite the fact that all he could think about was whether Éponine was going to survive.

"We've been waiting a long time for you, little one," he told her quietly, "You look like your mother," he continued, talking because it gave him something else to focus on, "You have her nose, and her dimples. You have my eyes, though. You definitely have my eyes. You don't have a name yet; we never did decide on one. I thought you'd be a boy, but your Mama always said that you'd be a girl. I really should trust her more often; she  _is_  always right, after all. But don't tell her I said that."

He stopped for a moment, his mind filling with the things he and Éponine had yet to do: they hadn't gotten married; they hadn't secured the future of France; they hadn't named their baby (either of them); they hadn't been to see his parents again; he hadn't finished teaching her how to play the violin as she'd asked him to do almost a year ago. So many things not done.

"Your brother or sister was a surprise, you know," Enjolras murmured to the baby, "And he or she has put your Mama in danger. But I don't want you to ever hold that against them. If your Mama survives, then you'll be the luckiest little girl in the world. If your twin survives and your Mama doesn't, then your brother or sister will be a blessing, because your Mama would have given her life for them.

"It's not the first time your Mama would have been willing to die for something you know. Papa was a silly man just over a year ago. I was naive, and I didn't quite know what I was doing. I was willing to die for my country, and so was your Mama. But when your Mama got hurt, I realised that I shouldn't be willing to die for my country; I should be willing to die for her."

He fell into silence, before being startled by a quiet knock on the door. His jump evoked a cry from the baby in his arms, and he hurriedly comforted her whilst moving to answer the door. He was almost tempted to ignore it, but he also welcomed the distraction. As he opened the door, a wave of relief rolled over him; never before had Enjolras been more grateful for Combeferre turning up at his door.

"How's Éponine?" Combeferre asked, before noticing the baby in Enjolras' arms and the tears that still lingered in his eyes, "Oh, God she's not-"

"No, no!" Enjolras said hastily, sighing, "She's... it's a long story."

"Sit down," Combeferre told him, "I'll make tea. You look like you're going to pass out." Enjolras chuckled humourlessly, moving to the sofa and sitting down carefully, shifting the baby in his arms so that she was upright against his body.

When Combeferre placed two cups of tea on the table in front of Enjolras, he sat down at the other end of the sofa, smiling slightly.

"Was Baby a she after all?" he asked quietly.

"Baby was a she with an added surprise." Enjolras replied, looking at his baby's face and seeing so much of Éponine in her that he could hardly believe it.

"I'll need a bit more than that, mon ami," Combeferre laughed.

"Baby was in fact  _Babies_ ," Enjolras told him, "Twins, 'Ferre. We're having  _twins_. Did you forget to mention that?" Combeferre gaped and then groaned.

"I knew there was something off!" he muttered, "I couldn't place it at the time... I  _did_  tell you that I wasn't an expert! Besides, didn't Éponine  _say_  that you were going to get a second opinion?!"

"I thought I could trust your judgement!" Enjolras argued, "My mistake, apparently." He glanced at Combeferre out of the corner of his eyes and both men grinned.

"So what's the issue with Éponine?" Combeferre asked, "I know twins are difficult but..."

"The second baby was... breeched, I think the midwife said. And they didn't have time to turn it. The only words I really heard were 'won't end well'." Combeferre grimaced.

"Éponine's strong, Enjolras," he said, putting a comforting hand on Enjolras' arm, "The strongest woman I know. If she's given you this little one, then I'm sure she'll give you another." Enjolras sighed a shaky breath.

"I don't doubt that," he said, his voice barely audible, "I just wonder if  _she'll_  manage to come out of it alive." Combeferre stayed silent, knowing that nothing he could say for certain would help Enjolras in that moment.

"She's beautiful you know," he said, tickling the baby lightly, "She looks so much like Éponine."

"I know," Enjolras replied, "Her nose."

"And her dimples," Combeferre smiled, "Your eyes, though."

"Yes, my eyes," Enjolras agreed, smiling slightly.

The time stretched out, and Enjolras wondered if that was a good of a bad sign; Éponine was strong, that much he knew, and if the other baby was anything like her then they would both make it out alive. But every second that ticked past when he was still faced with a closed door was another second that made Enjolras doubt if his fiancé and their child would survive.

He was grateful for Combeferre's company, and when their conversation fizzled out, he was grateful that his friend was content with just sitting there listening to him babble to his little girl about her mother.

The baby in his arms eventually fell asleep to her father's voice, listening (if it was possible for a child so young to actually listen as opposed to just hearing) to her Papa's stories of the barricade, the revolution, and her Mama. He told her of her many uncles, of her grandparents, and of her godparents. He told her of all of the things she would experience in life. Combeferre even pitched in, telling her about her father and his antics throughout his life. Combeferre had known Enjolras the longest, after all, and had many stories that the Amis could never even dream about.

When the door to the bedroom finally opened, Enjolras sat up straight, stirring the baby in his arms. The midwife came into the living room, holding a second bundle. The two babies cried together, almost in harmony, as the midwife approached him.

"You have another daughter, Mr DuFay," she said. He smiled disbelievingly as she handed the second baby to him, and he stood there with a baby in the crook of each arm as his face fell serious once more.

"Éponine..." he said, "Is she..."

"Exhausted? Yes. But she'll be absolutely fine. She coped very well, and I've made sure that everything's in order." The midwife assured him. His legs felt weak with relief, and the midwife almost stepped forward to support him, thinking he was about to faint; it wouldn't be the first time she'd had to deal with that situation. Luckily, Combeferre stepped in, placing a hand on Enjolras' back, bringing his friend back to his senses.

"Thank you, Madame," he said, smiling, "I'm sure if Enjolras could muster up the ability to speak, he'd say the same." Enjolras nodded, smiling gratefully at his friend and nodding his thanks to the midwife before walking away from both of them into the bedroom.

Éponine managed an exhausted smile as he sat on the bed beside her.

"You did it," he murmured, "I told you that you could."

"Two babies, Enjolras," she said, shaking her head in disbelief, "We have twins. Two little girls."

"And they're absolutely perfect," he told her, "All thanks to you."

"And you," she said, "I couldn't have done it without you. Thinking about you, it kept me going. I knew that I couldn't leave you alone with our babies." Enjolras leant forward and kissed her head. Éponine took one of the babies out of his arms, holding her lovingly to her chest expertly.

"You're a natural," Enjolras said quietly. She smiled, looking down at the gurgling bundle in her arms.

"You have three girls in your life now," she teased.

"I'm practically surrounded by females," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes, "I've no doubt that the Amis will be absolutely smitten and will have absolutely no idea how to react." Éponine laughed quietly, her eyelids drooping as a yawn escaped her lips.

"Sleep," Enjolras said quietly, taking the baby back from her, "We'll all still be here when you wake up."

"Sing to me," she murmured, although she was already almost asleep, "Sing to  _us_." Enjolras smiled; he was most definitely in love with this woman. Her asking him to sing to her was a habit that he himself had come to love.

He did as she asked, and when he had sung a single song through, both Éponine and their babies were fast asleep. Enjolras couldn't bring himself to move, however, and so he simply shifted into a more comfortable position beside Éponine, and watched over his family. The three girls in his life, sound asleep and happy around him.

And he knew that, whatever his parents did or could have done when he was a child, none of it would ever make him want for nothing more than the scene that he was currently part of.

* * *

After a while, Combeferre poked his head through the door, smiling at the scene.

"I'm going home," he told Enjolras, "Say hello to Éponine for me when she wakes up. And Enjolras?"

"Hmm?" Enjolras replied, looking up at his friend and away from the baby who was still sleeping in his arms.

"Well done," Combeferre said, "I know it was hard on you to see Éponine like that. You held it together for Baby. That takes more courage than leading a revolution." Enjolras smiled.

"Thank you, Combeferre," he said, "I would have driven myself insane without you." Combeferre shrugged.

"What are friends for?" he said, grinning, "I'll see you soon."

Leaving them alone again, Enjolras looked down to see the baby in his arms blinking up at him.

"Bonjour," he murmured, "We really must come up with a name for you. We can't keep calling you 'Baby', especially now there are two of you." She smiled, reaching her hand up to touch his face. Enjolras simply smiled, stroking her cheek with his finger.

"You were a surprise," he told her, "But a good one. The best, in fact. These things seem to happen a lot to me and your Mama. It's almost as if someone doesn't want our lives to be predictable. But do you know something, ma petite fille? If all of the surprises are as good as you, then I like it that way."


	25. Welcome to the Revolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italics = flashback

__**What if Enjolras and Éponine didn't tell the Amis that they had had twins, and the group had to find out for themselves?**

Éponine groaned as one of the twins started screaming again, knowing that it was only a matter of time before the other joined in. She nudged Enjolras in the back with her foot.

"It's your turn." She said bluntly. He also groaned.

"Why is it my turn?!" he complained loudly.

"Because I got up last time!"

Enjolras sighed, before walking to the other side of the room where the twins were sleeping in the crib that had so lovingly been put together by Courfeyrac and Feuilly.

The Amis had come to visit in small groups, many of them struggling to find time in their busy schedules to come and see the new additions to Les Amis de l'ABC.

_Gavroche had been the first to visit with a rather excited Courfeyrac alongside. The young boy couldn't wait to meet his niece or nephew, and had insisted that they go over to Éponine and Enjolras' flat the second they got news from Combeferre that Éponine had given birth, though Courfeyrac managed to keep him away from his sister's flat for another two days. Combeferre had tactfully not said a word about the fact that the baby had turned out to be twins, knowing that Enjolras and Éponine would want to break this news to the others themselves._

_Gavroche knocked on the door of Enjolras and Éponine's apartment, a rare occurrence; it was more common for him to just burst in, and both Enjolras and Éponine were now accustomed to it. Which is why Enjolras' face was a little bit less than cheerful when he opened the door and saw the two of them standing there._

" _Nice to see you too," Gavroche grumbled, pushing past Enjolras to get into the apartment._

" _Sorry, it's just..." Enjolras frowned, "I didn't even know you knew **how**  to knock!"_

" _What can I say, I'm a man of many talents," Gavroche grinned, "Now, I want to see my nephew."_

" _Ahh, I'm afraid not," Enjolras said, "I'd be wrong two times over if I said that you had a nephew." Both Gavroche and Courfeyrac frowned in confusion._

" _Twice?" Courfeyrac questioned when Enjolras didn't elaborate._

_Enjolras nodded, "Firstly because Baby is a girl," he said, "And secondly because it's not so much 'niece'. More like...'niec **es** '." Gavroche was still confused, but Courf's eyes widened in shock._

" _You had... Éponine's got... what?!" he stuttered, barely able to comprehend what Enjolras had just said._

" _I haven't got a clue what you're on about," Gavroche shrugged._

" _Éponine had twins, Gavroche," Enjolras laughed, "Two girls. So, sorry, but no nephews here." Gavroche's face screwed up in disgust._

" _Twin **girls**?!" he complained, "I thought  **one**  'Ponine was bad enough... now there's THREE of them!"_

" _Did I hear my name?" Éponine entered the living room from the bedroom, with one of the twins in her arms. The baby had just settled down after screaming for twenty minutes, and seemed to be ready to restart her tantrum the second anyone put her down._

_Upon noticing her brother and her friend, Éponine gasped with delight, "Gav! Courf! Oh, it feels like ages since I've seen you!" handing the baby to Enjolras carefully, she wrapped Gavroche, and then Courfeyrac, in a hug, smiling madly. Courfeyrac laughed._

" _It's only been three days, 'Ponine," he pointed out, before breaking away from the hug to inspect her, "You look amazing, by the way." Éponine rolled her eyes, laughing._

" _Thank you," she said, nodding in acknowledgment of the compliment, "I completely agree."_

" _As do I," Enjolras said smiling, wrapping his free arm around Éponine's waist. Courfeyrac smiled at the baby in Enjolras' arms._

" _May I?" he asked, handing his hands out to take the baby from Enjolras. The revolutionary leader expertly handed the baby over to Courfeyrac. Courfeyrac grinned madly at the bundle in his arms and his eyes lit up when she gurgled happily, staring up at him. "Hello, petite fille," he said, his voice soft, "And what should I call you?"_

" _Evette," Éponine told him, smiling at the scene. Gavroche was on his tiptoes, trying to peer into the blanket that now occupied Courfeyrac's arms, wanting to see his niece._

" _Bonjour, Mademoiselle Evette," Courf said quietly as Evette grabbed hold of his finger and squeezed with all the strength she currently occupied. Courf chuckled, "She's certainly got Enjolras' strength," he noted._

" _Courf," Gavroche whined, "I want to see!" Courf crouched slightly so that Evette was at Gavroche's height. He made a face at her, not understanding what all the fuss was about. Seeing his face, Evette giggled, her arms waving happily as they escaped from her blanket._

" _Well, she's changed her tune," Éponine grumbled, "It took me forever to get her to quieten down."_

_Enjolras, who had disappeared, returned with the other baby in his arms. Gavroche cocked his head to one side, apparently thinking about something._

" _Can I hold her?" he asked after a moment. Éponine and Enjolras looked at each other._

" _Only if you're careful," his sister said, sending him a warning glance. Gavroche rolled his eyes_

" _I'm always careful," he said defensively._

" _Care **less** , more like," Éponine said, smirking, "Do you remember the time you thought it'd be clever to try and climb on that man's horse, and it reared up and you flew off? I thought you'd died!" Gavroche grinned._

" _Well, a baby isn't a horse, is it?" he said. Enjolras laughed._

" _He has a point, 'Ponine," he said, approaching Gavroche with the baby. Gavroche copied the way Enjolras had his arms, and the revolutionary leader placed the baby into them, "Just support her head," he said, and Gavroche shifted slightly to do as Enjolras said. He looked up to Enjolras for approval._

" _Like this?" Enjolras nodded._

" _There, you see? You're a natural!" he crouched down next to the two, rubbing the baby's cheek fondly with his finger, "This, Elyse," he murmured, "Is your Uncle Gavroche. And Evette's over there, with Uncle Courfeyrac. You'll love them, you know." Gavroche laughed._

" _You've gone all soppy!" he said. Enjolras frowned._

" _Soppy?!" he said, outraged, "I have **not**  gone 'soppy'!"_

" _That was a little bit soppy, Enj," Courf said laughing._

" _I'm not soppy!" Enjolras protested, standing up, "'Ponine! Tell them I'm not soppy!"_

" _Leave him alone, you two," Éponine said firmly, but even she was smiling slightly as she wrapped her arms around Enjolras' neck to kiss him as a way of making up for her brother and friend's jibes. Gavroche and Courfeyrac caught each other's eye, and simultaneously started making retching noises. Éponine rolled her eyes._

" _Yes, yes, thank you," Enjolras said wearily, taking Evette from Courfeyrac and going to sit on the sofa. Éponine did the same, taking Elyse from Gavroche before joining him. Gavroche took the last space on the sofa as Courfeyrac brought a chair over from the dining table to sit with them._

" _So, twins?" he said, "How did that happen?!"_

" _Combeferre." Both Éponine and Enjolras said, rolling their eyes._

" _He failed to mention the fact that Éponine was pregnant with twins when we went to him." Enjolras explained._

" _We **were**  going to go to an actual doctor," Éponine continued, "But Combeferre offered and, seeing as he was qualified, we thought it'd be easier than going to a stranger." She shrugged, "I suppose we should have got a second opinion."_

" _How did you two react?" Courf asked grinning, "Actually, here's a better question: how did you find out? Surely you didn't just... give birth to two babies without realising?"_

" _Obviously I didn't just give birth to them," Éponine said, "Besides, this little one obviously wanted to make a memorable entrance..." she waved Elyse's hand around, smiling slightly, "Not only was she the baby we weren't expecting, she decided that it'd be fun to come out **backwards**..." Gavroche frowned._

"' _Ponine?" he said. Éponine looked past Enjolras to her brother, "Where do babies come from?" Éponine gaped for a moment, looking at the almost-eleven-year-old in shock._

" _I'll, er... leave that one to Courf," she said, smiling evilly at her friend. Courf glared at her as Gavroche turned to him for an answer and Enjolras just laughed silently as his friend struggled to find the words so that he could give Gavroche a satisfactory answer._

The twins were now almost two weeks old, and were getting to the stage when they simply refused to sleep through the night. Éponine and Enjolras had agreed to take it in turns, and Éponine hadn't been lying when she said that she was the one who had tended to the twins the last time.

Enjolras picked a screaming Evette out of the crib, rocking her gently in his arms. Elyse was, luckily, still sleeping soundly, despite her sister's persistent screaming.

"It reminds me of when I was a little girl, you know," Éponine said from where she was still lying in bed, "Gavroche was only a baby when we lost the Inn. We all lived in one room, and he just used to sleep on the bed next to me and Azelma. In the middle of the night, he'd wake up screaming and I'd have to try and get him back to sleep," she frowned into the darkness, "I never was any good at it."

"Then it shows that you get better at things as you go on through life," Enjolras said quietly, taking Evette in his arms as he sat on the bed next to Éponine, "Because, honestly, 'Ponine... you're a natural at this. Truly you are. The perfect mother." Éponine rolled her eyes, grimacing.

"I don't believe that for a second," she said, sitting up and leaning her head on his shoulder, "But, talking of mothers... have you told your parents about the twins yet." Enjolras shook his head, before remembering that Éponine couldn't see the action in the darkness.

"No," he said, "I'll write to them in the morning."

"I think we should go and visit," Éponine said. Enjolras frowned.

"Really?" he asked, "But... my parents are 'the parents from hell', remember?"

"They're not that bad," Éponine laughed, "Your father's actually very nice. Your mother is the only... issue. But I think I can win her over to liking me. Especially now that I've given her such beautiful granddaughters."

"They are beautiful," Enjolras agreed, "Just like their mother."

"And their father," Éponine added, "They have your eyes."

"And your nose," he said, smiling. He glanced down at the now sleeping baby in his arms, getting up and laying her back in the crib next to her sister. He climbed back into bed, lying next to Éponine who curled into his embrace, smiling as her hair tickled his face.

"So, we're visiting your parents?" Éponine asked, giving barely any room for arguments. Enjolras chuckled.

"If that's what you want, 'Ponine," he said quietly. She nodded approvingly.

"Good," she said, yawning as she leant her head on his chest. Just as the two were about to fall asleep in each other's arms, the screaming form the crib at the edge of the room started up again.

Before Éponine could say a word, Enjolras moved his arms away and rolled over.

"Your turn."

* * *

When Cosette and Marius had come to visit, it was a slightly different matter to when any of the other Amis had come to see the 'baby'. The most distinguishable difference was that, in extreme contrast to the Amis' looks of shock, surprise and bewilderment, Cosette actually  _did_  faint.

When she finally came round, she had flushed with embarrassment before demanding to see both of her godchildren right that second, despite the fact that she was laying on Éponine and Enjolras' living room floor.

" _You're still only an honorary godmother you know," Enjolras told her as he and Marius helped her to her feet. She rolled her eyes and huffed._

" _I know that," she said, "But, I'm their godmother nonetheless. Now, tell me everything. How did you find out that you were having twins? Who do they look like, Enjolras or Éponine? Who else has come to visit? Oh, and-"_

" _Cosette!" Éponine interrupted her friend before they could be bombarded with any more questions, "If you stay quiet for thirty seconds, you can see for yourself!" and with that she left the room, leaving a very awkward Enjolras alone with Marius and Cosette. When she returned with Elyse in her arms, Cosette very nearly melted with happiness._

" _Oh, Éponine," Cosette said, tears in her eyes, "She's beautiful! What's her name?"_

_Enjolras butted in before Éponine could answer, "We're only telling you if you promise not to faint again." He said bluntly. Cosette frowned but nodded in agreement._

" _Her name is Elyse Cosette DuFay,"_   _Éponine said, smiling as she handed the baby to Cosette, who now had tears of happiness rolling down her face._

" _You... you named her after me?" she choked out, eyes shining and a huge smile on her face, "You didn't have to do that!"_

" _We wanted to," Enjolras said, also smiling._

" _We?" Marius smirked; Enjolras hadn't held back when he had told Marius how he felt about Cosette: that she was melodramatic, materialistic and a little bit overwhelming. He and Marius had agreed to disagree, and Enjolras had promised to be civil around Cosette._

_When Éponine had asked Enjolras if he would agree to partly naming one of their children after Cosette, however, he had agreed immediately; as much as he hated to admit it, Éponine needed a female friend, and Cosette was the perfect match for her. Cosette's melodramatic and overwhelming personality perfectly contrasted Éponine's usually calm and collected manner, and for that, Enjolras was grateful._

" _Yes, **we**." Éponine said bluntly, glaring at him forcefully. Marius just grinned; he and Éponine were still close friends, arguably closer now than they ever had been before, and he would be willing to bet anything that she'd have forgiven him for his comment within the next ten minutes._

" _Where is little Elyse's twin, then?" he asked her, the grin still firmly on his face. Éponine couldn't stop herself from grinning as she went to get Evette from where she was now lying alone in the crib. When she returned, Cosette, Marius and Enjolras had relocated to the sofa. She handed Evette to Marius, looking at the chairs at the dining room table, before sitting down sideways on Enjolras' lap. He chuckled at her spontaneity, wrapping his arms around her waist, his fingers interlocking at her hip._

" _This is Evette," Enjolras told him, placing his finger in his daughter's palm and smiling as her fingers closed instinctively around it._

" _Did you name her after anyone, or is she just 'Evette'?" Marius asked, smiling as the baby looked up at him._

" _Evette Jaqueline Azelma," Enjolras said, "Because I honestly don't think it would help Éponine's case if my mother's name wasn't in at least one of our daughters' names."_

" _I fully support that theory," Marius said seriously, "And Azelma for your sister?" he asked Éponine, "Even after what happened with your father last year?"_

_Éponine shuddered at the memory; her father and his gang's idea of 'revenge', beating her within an inch of her life._

" _Azelma couldn't help that," Éponine said quietly, "You know my father, Marius. Could you say no to him if you were her and he'd asked you to do something?" Marius just shook his head, looking down at the baby in his arms. "She's not with our father anymore anyway," Éponine said, smiling slightly, "She's living with a women and her family on the other side of Paris. She's a nanny, of sorts... she looks after the woman's children, makes them supper every evening. I've only met the woman once, but she seemed nice enough."_

" _How did she manage to get that?!" Marius asked, "Azelma's barely thirteen!"_

" _That would be Enjolras' doing." Éponine smiled at her fiancé gratefully, "And Azelma is fifteen."_

" _The woman is a friend of my mother's," he shrugged, "I've known her all my life. She happened to mention that she needed a nursery maid when I bumped into her a few months ago. I suggested Azelma, and she said she'd be perfect." Marius looked impressed, and fell quiet once more as the Evette started whining for attention._

" _The twins have your nose, 'Ponine," Cosette laughed, cooing at her almost-namesake._

" _And they have Enjolras' eyes," Marius noted._

" _We know," Éponine and Enjolras said simultaneously, causing the four of them to start laughing., despite the fact that it really wasn't that funny._

* * *

They were almost a month old when the twins finally managed to sleep through an entire night (meaning that Enjolras and Éponine also got a much-needed full night's sleep), and so the couple decided to take their daughters to the Musain, so that they could meet the rest of their uncles.

Some of the Amis who still had busy schedules had yet to visit them, be that because they were studying at the university, or having to work stupidly long hours to pay their way without the much needed allowance from their parents that had been cut off the second they had got a job.

It was a sunny July evening and the twins blinked in the sunlight, not yet used to the outdoors. Enjolras and Éponine walked down the few streets to the cafe, Enjolras holding Evette and Éponine holding Elyse.

They walked in to see everyone assembled in one big group, talking about this and that. Combeferre spotted them first; when he had finally found the time to see Enjolras and Éponine after the twins' birth, he had been so apologetic (for Éponine's sake, seeing as she wasn't within hearing distance the first time he said sorry) that Éponine had burst out laughing. She went on to assure him that there was no need for him to be sorry, and that it really had been a nice surprise.

Combeferre alerted the rest of the Amis of their friends' arrival, and the few that had yet to visit the couple and their newborns got up to congratulate them, as Grantaire and Feuilly pulled up chairs for Éponine and Enjolras at the table. Luckily for the pair, everyone had already been informed that the baby had turned out to be twins, as, honestly, they were getting a bit bored of explaining it.

The twins were passed around a lot that night, and eventually they fell asleep, Evette in Combeferre's arms, Elyse in Marius'.

"They're amazing," Cosette told Éponine as she watched Marius with a small smile on her face.

"I know," Éponine said quietly, "I can't honestly believe they're mine..."

"You're a natural," Cosette assured her, "And the Amis love them. Just you wait and see; they'll be the most spoilt little girls in all of France!"

"I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not!" Éponine laughed, watching as Enjolras, who had been talking to Grantaire, approached Combeferre quietly. A moment later Combeferre handed Evette to him, and Enjolras carried her back over to Grantaire, who argued with Enjolras for a second, before having the baby placed carefully in his arms.

Now that Éponine thought about it, Grantaire had been quiet all night, and she didn't think he'd finished a single bottle of wine yet; it was all very unusual.

"What's wrong with Grantaire?" she asked as Enjolras came over to her, leaving Grantaire with the baby, "He's not drunk and he's been quiet all night." Enjolras smirked.

"He's not so much the 'fun' uncle right now," he said, rolling his eyes, "More of the... 'Scared he's going to break the babies the second he goes anywhere near them' uncle." Éponine laughed.

"But he's fine!" she protested, "Look at him! He's been holding Evette for a full two minutes and he hasn't dropped her."

"I'm not deaf you know!" he called over to them.

"Stop being pathetic!" Éponine retorted, "You won't break her. Just hold her like a normal person, and you'll be fine!" he poked his tongue out at her childishly, before turning his attention back to the baby in his arms.

After a while, Cosette appeared, wanting to hold the baby again, and Grantaire obliged, though he was considerably more comfortable with the baby now than he had been at the beginning of the night.

"I propose a toast!" he called out to everyone, and they all fell quiet as he stood at the head of the table, "To the newest members of Les Amis de l'ABC." Everyone raised a glass to the still sleeping bundles, which had finally made their way back to Enjolras and Éponine.

Grantaire finished with a final sentence, a small smile on his face, "Welcome to the Revolution, petites filles."


	26. Getting to Know You

**What if Éponine and Enjolras went to visit Enjolras' parents with the twins?**

The twins were almost two months old by the time they went to visit Enjolras' parents. It was mid-September, and the days were starting to get colder with an almost constant cold breeze sweeping over the country. Though the sun still appeared overhead, Éponine and Enjolras found themselves in coats, wrapping the twins up in several blankets as opposed to just one.

They were welcomed in by the maid, and led to the living room where they were told Enjolras' parents would meet them. Éponine sat on one of the sofas with Elyse in her arms, bouncing the baby up and down almost nervously.

"If you're not careful, Elyse will be vomiting her breakfast over my parents' floor," Enjolras noted dryly. Éponine froze immediately, rearranging her hold so that Elyse was held closer to her, "Why are you so nervous?"

"I'm not  _nervous_!" Éponine protested, "I'm just a little... anxious, that's all."

"They mean virtually the same thing, Athena," Enjolras said, edging closer to her. She leaned into his side, feeling calmer when she was closer to him, "Besides, it's the twins who are meeting my parents for the first time; they have more reason to be 'anxious' than you do."

"Yes but..." the doors at the end of the room opening and Enjolras' parents entered, quietly conversing, cutting her off.

"Enjolras," his mother greeted him with a smile, "...Éponine." Éponine was surprised when the welcome sounded neither bitter, nor forced; in fact, Enjolras' mother sounded almost... well,  _welcoming_.

"And our beautiful grandchildren!" Enjolras' father was grinning madly. Enjolras smiled as his parents sat opposite him and Éponine, and got up to pass Evette to his father, who took her into his arms eagerly.

"Well, bonjour, ma belle-fille," he murmured.

"Her name is Evette," Éponine told him smiling. He returned her smile before turning back to the baby in his arms

"Bonjour, Evette," he said quietly, his eyes bright and happy.

"May I?" Enjolras' mother asked Éponine. The baby in Éponine's arm was sleeping soundly, and Éponine smiled at how beautiful Elyse was when she wasn't screaming before passing the baby to Enjolras' mother.

"What's her name?" Jaqueline asked, looking from the baby back to Éponine.

"Elyse," Enjolras told his mother, "Éponine's choice. I named Evette." Enjolras looked at the way his mother held the baby; it had been years since he had seen her so loving, so... natural. As he'd grown older, he'd always felt like his parents expected a lot from him, and that he'd disappoint them if he didn't achieve the best of what his parents wanted him to do.

Which, in itself, caused Enjolras to rebel against it. Had Enjolras ever been to see any kind of therapist in the months following the June rebellion, they would most probably deduct that Enjolras' need to overturn the monarchy was down to 'unresolved childhood issues with his parents'. Not that he'd ever even dream of going to see a therapist (Jehan's babbling about love in the world was more than enough philosophy for Enjolras to be putting up with).

Enjolras had studied law at university, just as his parents had wanted him to; the revolution was his personal hobby, something that they definitely couldn't take away from him. And the most important part: something would actually come out of it. Not like Jehan's finished poems, Feuilly's fans, Grantaire's empty wine bottles or Combeferre and Joly's diagnoses; something, a legacy he supposed, that would last for years, decades even, into the future.

Taking another look at how loving and peaceful his parents looked with their grandchildren in their arms, Enjolras moved on to the next point of business, "We also have some other news."

"We do?" Éponine asked, frowning at him confusedly.

"Yes, we do," he said, smiling slightly as he took he hand lovingly in his, "Éponine and I are engaged." His parents looked between the two, looks of shock etched across their faces.

"Well, erm..." his father stuttered, apparently lost for words, "Congratulations! That's, um.. this is..."

"It's fantastic," Enjolras' mother said, smiling at the two of them, and again, he smile was genuine. Éponine wasn't sure if she should be glad that Enjolras' mother had apparently warmed up to her, or worried that there was a rather prominent chance that that wasn't the case at all, and that Jaqueline was really just putting on an act that would unravel later on.

Éponine cursed herself for thinking too much; this was Enjolras' mother after all; she had approached her almost a year ago with such confidence and, if she may say so herself, charm. What had happen in those short months since their last meeting?

And then it dawned on her; for, in that time, Éponine had become a mother herself. Seemingly unrelated, but when Éponine thought about it, she was always a bit more paranoid, be it about the twins and their safety, or about any and all other aspects in life. She had just been generally jumpy.

And for that, she cursed herself again, because the person she had become wasn't someone she was particularly proud of; she had always been an independent, headstrong, confident girl, and these traits had only become more prominent as she got older. She wasn't quite ready for that to change yet.

And so, Éponine smiled back, "Thank you," she said, "Both of you," and then, in keeping with her recent thoughts, she posed the question she knew had to be asked to set her over-paranoid mind at rest, "But, if I may ask... what's changed?" the two of them looked blankly at her, "Well, what I met you last year, you seemed so... critical of me. 'Some things may have to change' were your exact words I believe... what's changed?"

Phillip and Jaqueline shared a look before answering, "A few things," Phillip started, "The fact that you are the mother of our grandchildren for a start."

"And the fact that you make Enjolras happy for another thing," Jaqueline said, smiling almost sadly, "After you'd left from your last visit-"

"Quite the exit, by the way," Phillip added wryly.

Jaqueline continued, ignoring her husband's interruption, "Phillip and I discussed your visit and what you'd told us. We thought of the worst case scenarios we could be in... and deduced that you really could be a much worse candidate for a daughter in law." Éponine frowned.

"I suppose I should say thank you," she said, "Although I'm not entirely sure that it was a compliment."

"It wasn't an insult," Jaqueline provided. Éponine smiled slightly.

"That's something I suppose." She said.

"So... when's the big day?" Phillip asked, smiling as Evette grabbed hold of his finger and gurgled happily.

"Ah, yes, you see..." Enjolras ran a hand through his hair awkwardly, "We haven't actually started planning the wedding yet..." Jaqueline sighed exasperatedly.

"Honestly, Enjolras, the day you plan anything that doesn't have anything to do with a rebellion will be the day the Lord himself comes down from Heaven."

"I'll have you know I'm very good at planning!" Enjolras said indignantly. His mother just raised her eyebrows, turning, once again, back to the baby in her arms.

"We're very happy for both of you," Phillip said smiling, "But I think this little on is hungry," he said amusedly as Evette started grizzling in his arms.

Éponine laughed, "Yes, now is about lunchtime," she said, smiling fondly as Phillip handed her the baby, "We should probably be getting back. I told Courf that we'd pick Gavroche up on the way home." Enjolras nodded, smiling as Evette's grizzling progressed into full-on screaming. Éponine sighed, hooking her little finger into Evette's mouth to attempt to keep her quiet.

"Goodbye, Maman," Enjolras said, hugging his mother goodbye before taking Elyse from her. She smiled.

"We'll see you soon," she told him, "Probably before the wedding. Goodness knows how long we'll have to wait for that..."

"Don't worry," Éponine said, rolling her eyes, "Cosette is nagging me every day to start planning. She'll probably have the entire thing sorted out by the time Enjolras and I get a chance to think about it." Éponine was shocked as Enjolras' mother also wrapped her in a hug.

"I should probably apologise for how I acted towards you last year, Éponine," she said, "And I truly am sorry. I'm glad that you're a part of our family, and that you make our son happy." Éponine nodded, smiling, but couldn't say anything in return as Elyse started crying in harmony with her sister.

"Don't be strangers," Phillip said as he showed them out, "We're only half an hour away. Perhaps we could look after the twins at some point, to give you two some space."

"I'm sure we'd love that," Enjolras said smiling, taking Éponine's free hand in his and leading the two of them towards his parents' carriage that he had 'borrowed' for the day (in all truthfulness, his parents hardly ever used it anyway, and he had been the only one using it since the age of twelve, so he had christened it 'his' carriage a long time ago). 

"Well, that wasn't nearly as bad as I'd expected," Éponine commented as the carriage set off. Enjolras smirked.

"You and my mother will be best friends in no time," he said dryly. His fiancee rolled her eyes. 

"Very funny, Apollo," she said, "Though hopefully not totally inaccurate. The twins should know at least one set of their grandparents."

Enjolras nodded, squeezing her hand lightly. He grinned suddenly, "I cannot  _wait_ to see Courfeyrac's face when you tell him that my mother actually apologised to you..."

* * *

"And how was your second meeting with Enjolras' dear parents?" Courfeyrac asked as he opened the door to let Éponine and Enjolras in when they came to collect Gavroche.

"Surprisingly uneventful," Enjolras shrugged, passing Elyse into his eagerly awaiting arms. The twins had quietened down in the carriage, prioritising sleep over begging for food. 

"What? 'Ponine didn't... spring any more surprises on them? Your mother didn't criticise her dress sense? Or her hairstyle? Or, god forbid... her  _job_?!" Éponine rolled her eyes.

"No, no, and... no?" she frowned, "Enjolras told his parents that I'm,  _technically_ , working for him months ago. They haven't expressed any kind of disapproval before. Not that I've heard anyway..." she looked suspiciously at Enjolras before continuing, "I actually got an apology for how she acted towards me last year." Courfeyrac's mouth dropped open, his eyes wide.

"I hope you realise how lucky you are, 'Ponine!" he exclaimed, "People have gone without apologies when she's done far worse than insult their upbringing!"

"I'm not sure whether to hit you for insulting my mother," Enjolras pondered, "Or applaud you because everything you're saying is completely true..." Courfeyrac rolled his eyes.

"But, really, 'Ponine, count yourself lucky," he said sincerely, "It's not often that she says sorry, and when she does it's more of a... 'apologise or I'll take you to court' matter." Éponine smirked.

"Is it  _that_ hard to believe that she actually likes me?" she questioned.

"Yes." Enjolras and Courfeyrac answered simultaneously. Éponine just poked her tongue out at the two of them, passing Evette to Enjolras as she went in search of Gavroche.

* * *

Later that night, having already put the twins to bed, Éponine was tucking Gavroche in and saying goodnight to him.

"'Ponine?" Gavroche said questioningly, "If you had to choose between me, and Elyse and Evette, who would you pick?"

Éponine frowned, "I wouldn't be able to choose, Gavroche," she said simply, shrugging.

"But if you  _had_  to?" he demanded.

"I would stamp my foot, glare at the person asking me to choose, cross my arms angrily and go all 'Angry 'Ponine' on them," Éponine said, fixing Gavroche with a serious look, "And I would tell them off for asking such a silly question and  _then_..." she smirked evilly, "Tickle them until they squealed!" she put this into practice, poking Gavroche in a particularly ticklish spot on his side.

Gavroche laughed, wrapping his arms around his older sister, "Love you, 'Ponine."

"I love you too, 'Vroche," she said, hugging him back. She kissed his head, "Now, sleep. And if the twins start crying in the night, try to ignore them."

"As if," Gavroche scoffed, rolling over and snuggling in the blankets, "I'll get up and Enjolras can tell us another revolution story like he did last time." Éponine rolled her eyes.

"Goodnight, Gavroche," she said, blowing out the candle on his bedside table and closing the door on her way out.


	27. A Family Connection

**What if Enjolras' mum and Éponine bond over a mutual experience?**

When Enjolras had passed her an envelope addressed to her one morning, Éponine barely paid any attention as she opened it and pulled the letter out. However, as she started to read her eyes slowly widened, making Enjolras look at her in concern.

"Are you alright?" he asked, bouncing Elyse up and down against his shoulder.

"Your, er... your mother wants us to visit," Éponine said quietly, "Well, she wants  _me_  to visit... it says you can come if you want to."

"Charming," he muttered, "Why?"

"She wants to talk to me," Éponine shrugged, "Doesn't say about what. Should I be worried, or..." Enjolras looked thoughtful.

"I don't know," he said, "She's never done this before." Éponine grimaced.

"Well, thank you, Enjolras, that was  _very_  reassuring..." she said, though her smile was genuine as she took Elyse from him, finding the yawn that escaped him rather amusing.

"You should go and get some more sleep, whilst they're quiet," she told him, "Evette's still asleep and Elyse is fine for now. You look exhausted."

"So do you," he pointed out, "You have to get up more than I do."

"Yes, but you have an important meeting with Marius later," Éponine said firmly, "Go back to bed. I'm sure the twins will wake you if they want you." He sighed.

"Alright," he said reluctantly, "But when I've finished napping, you're going to catch up on some sleep too."

"Deal," Éponine smirked.

* * *

Enjolras and Éponine found time to visit his parents two weeks later, and it was safe to say that an hour long nap a day was  _not_  enough to catch up on the sleep they missed during the night. Éponine practically walked around with her eyes closed, not being able to open them properly due to the sheer exhaustion that was constantly hanging over her.

The two had put the twins in Combeferre's custody for the day; Marius and Cosette would have been their first point of call, but they were both trying to help Cosette's father to find his sister (he had taken up the project not long after Éponine had suggested it, and he had been searching tirelessly ever since). It was proving to be quite a difficult job, so Cosette and Marius offered to help wherever they could.

Jaqueline herself opened the door, and she tutted at the sight of them, "Well, don't collapse on the doorstep," she said disapprovingly, "Come in, both of you." She led them through the living room to the kitchen, which was surprisingly cosy despite being large.

"Antoinette?" she called out before their resident cook appeared in the doorway, "I don't suppose you could make us some tea?" Antoinette nodded, smiling.

"It has been too long since I last saw you, Monsieur Enjolras!" she exclaimed, "I remember when you were just a toddler! Now I am hearing that you have children of your own! What excuse do you have for your old cook?" Antoinette was a middle-aged woman who was surprisingly slim considering she dealt with food for a living and lived by the phrase 'if it hasn't been tasted by those who make it, then it is not worthy of any other person'.

Enjolras smiled wryly. "You have my sincerest apologies, Madame," he said, "I've been rather busy you see. I'm currently taking over the government from the inside..."

Jaqueline frowned at her son, "You shouldn't say such things, Enjolras," she said, "Those words will get you thrown in prison, or worse. Honestly, one of these days I'll find a letter from the King himself, saying that your execution order has been signed because you've committed an act of treason, and I won't be the least bit surprised!"

"Where is Papa?" he questioned, desperately trying to avoid another 'revolutionary argument' as his father had dubbed them (he had been rather proud of his pun).

"He is looking in the attic for the Christmas decorations," she said, rolling her eyes, "He has been since this morning. You could help him if you'd like." Enjolras looked to Éponine and was eternally grateful for her smile of encouragement.

"Gladly," he replied, squeezing Éponine's hand lightly before walking off to find his father. As he left, Antoinette set two cups of tea down on the table. Éponine smiled at her gratefully and took a sip from her cup, surprised by the fact that it was made exactly to her liking. She looked up at the cook, who winked at her conspiratorially before leaving the two women alone.

"I do wonder how he hasn't gotten himself killed," Jaqueline said quietly to Éponine.

"Well, despite how it seems, Enjolras does possess  _some_  common sense," Éponine laughed, "Though it does seem to masquerade as anything but." Jaqueline smiled.

"How are you coping, Éponine?" she asked, "I know newborns are difficult, but having two of them on your hands... I dread to think." Éponine frowned.

"It's not easy," she admitted, "Especially with Enjolras having to meet deadlines for work as well as having to help with the twins. If I'm honest, I didn't predict it being this hard." Jaqueline nodded.

"That would probably be because you were only expecting one baby," she suggested, "And you've had an easy start. When Enjolras was a baby, he'd cry every half an hour for a cuddle or a feed. Phillip was worse than useless; he always ended up making Enjolras cry even more! One day, I just left him with the baby and went to visit my sister in Calais. I came back the next evening, and they were both fast asleep in an armchair. We didn't have as many issues after that." Éponine laughed.

"Well, I have contemplated leaving the twins with the Amis for a few days," Éponine laughed, "But I don't think they'd appreciate it. Besides, we're coping. Just about." Jaqueline smiled wanly.

"You'd be surprised what your friends will do for you and Enjolras, Éponine," she said, "They're very faithful, amongst other things," she frowned slightly, "I find that Grantaire leaves a few things to be desired."

Éponine nodded, "I think I've heard the story of his visit," she smiled slightly, "But he's surprisingly good with the twins. He was terrified at first... he wouldn't go anywhere near them! But he seems to have gotten over that."

Jaqueline sipped her tea, "You have a brother, don't you?" she asked. Éponine nodded.

"Gavroche," she supplied, "He's turning eleven just after Christmas. He only lives with us part time, and the rest of the time he lives with Courfeyrac."

"Hmm, yes, I know Courfeyrac's mother," Jaqueline said, her voice clearly showing her dislike for the other woman, "Or step-mother, I should say. His father was a widower who remarried. Nasty woman. Caused such a racket at one of banquets at the government halls a few years ago. Went around insulting everyone she spoke to! They banished her in the end." Éponine finally grasped the reason Courfeyrac's experience when he'd met Enjolras' parents was less than enjoyable. She made a mental note to bring it up with Courf the next time she saw him.

"Éponine, I'd like you to know," Jaqueline said again, "That... despite the footing we got off on, I am looking forward to having you as a daughter-in-law. And I'm also always willing to help with, or give advice on, anything you need when it comes to Elyse and Evette. They are my grandchildren after all, and I know that it's difficult when you become a mother." Éponine smiled at her.

"I'm very grateful," she said, "Honestly, it's been hectic... most of what we've been doing is on instinct. The thing we really need is sleep." Jaqueline nodded.

"Talk to your friends," she said, "I guarantee that they can offer you more help than you'd believe." Éponine was still doubtful but nodded as Enjolras and his father entered the room. She stifled a laugh as she noticed a piece of tinsel in Enjolras' hair and stood up, plucking it out and holding it out to him.

"I believe this is yours?" she said, her face lit up with a smile. Enjolras blushed slightly, glaring at his father.

"You found the Christmas decorations then?" Jaqueline said amusedly, standing up to stand with Phillip.

"Yes I did," he said smugly, "Right at the back of the attic. Where they are every year."

"We should probably be going," Enjolras said, looking at the clock, "It's getting late and it's starting to snow outside, we need to get back before it starts settling."

"Perhaps we'll see you soon," Phillip said, hugging Éponine goodbye, "I'd love to see my granddaughters again."

"They've grown," Éponine told his, smiling, "I can hardly believe they're almost half a year old!"

"Time flies," he agreed.

After they'd all exchanged goodbyes (including Enjolras seeking out Antoinette and telling her than he would come and see her again soon), Enjolras and Éponine climbed into their carriage, just as the snow began to stick to the ground.

" _Now_  it's almost Christmas," she said, smiling as she looked out the window, "I remember when I was a little girl. There'd always be snow on the ground at Christmas time, and Mama would always give me money to buy a new doll. There always used to be a man dressed up as Santa outside the inn. Papa would con him in and he'd waste his money on a prostitute. He was a nice man..." she finished her sentence sarcastically, glancing round to find Enjolras leaning against the side of the carriage, fast asleep. She giggled quietly, sliding up next to him and resting her head on his shoulder.

Before long, they were both dead to the world, missing the sight of the snow falling heavily to the ground.

* * *

By the time the two reached Combeferre's apartment, they were ankle deep in snow and shivering.

"We should have brought extra coats," Enjolras muttered as the climbed the stairs, "It's freezing."

"Yes, thank you, Monsieur  _Obvious_ ," Éponine retorted, "Let's just get home, and sit in front of the fire."

"Best idea you've ever had," he said teasingly. Éponine rolled her eyes.

Knocking on Combeferre's door, they heard laughter from the other side, and practically ran into the warmth inside Combeferre's living room.

"Hello to you too," he laughed, "But I wouldn't wait around if I were you. That snow will be knee-deep by the time you get downstairs if you take too long." As he said this, Éponine turned to Courfeyrac, shaking her head at him. He looked confused.

"What?" he questioned, looking past Gavroche, who was sitting on his lap. Grantaire was holding Evette, close enough to the fire to keep warm, but no so close that the baby in his arms would get too hot. Elyse was currently with Jehan, who was telling her a very detailed story regarding a flower garden he'd come across on one of his many walks.

"You remember how you told me that Enjolras' parents were the parents from hell," she said, "And that you'd been banished from their house because you hadn't been to a banquet in the government halls?" Courfeyrac nodded, unsure of what she was suggesting.

"Well it wasn't  _you_ Enjolras' mother was talking about!" Éponine told him, "It was  _your_  step-mother. Because apparently she's a horrible person who went around insulting everyone when she went to the banquet, so they banished her!" Courfeyrac's eyes widened.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, "I thought it was a bit strange... it  _did_  seem a bit pathetic to banish me just because I hadn't been to a banquet..."

"You think?" Éponine said incredulously.

"And, come to think about it, Enjolras' mother was right," he said, grimacing, "My step-mother is a bit of a-"

Enjolras coughed warningly, "Children." He pointed out.

"She's not a nice person," Courf finished before grinning, "That was pretty bad judgement on my part, wasn't it?"

"It was a little bit, yes," Éponine smiled, taking Evette from Grantaire, "But we really should go. Otherwise we'll never get home and Joly will throw a fit if any of us get sick."

"He's going to be a nightmare in this weather..." Courfeyrac muttered, "Sniffling, constantly checking his temperature..."

"Constantly checking everyone  _else's_  temperatures," Enjolras added, interrupting Jehan apologetically to take Elyse from him, "Can I ban anything even remotely medical from the meetings? Can I do that?"

"You're in charge," Combeferre smirked.

"As your advisor, I strongly recommend it," Grantaire added, "The last thing I need is Joly fussing over me when I pass out drunk. Knowing him, he'll think I've dropped dead from some... disease that's carried in snow."

"I second that recommendation," Éponine said as she walked out the door. Enjolras quickly followed, saying goodbye as he closed the door behind him.

"This is the twins' first snowfall," Enjolras noted as they climbed back into the carriage for the short journey to their apartment.

Éponine smiled, "And soon they'll have had their first Christmas."

"There are going to be lots of firsts," Enjolras said, "First words, steps, teeth..." Éponine grinned.

"I'm looking forward to our first full night's sleep." Enjolras laughed.

"Agreed."


	28. Hitting a Wall

**What if Enjolras and Éponine were struggling with being first-time parents?**

Despite Jaqueline's advice, Éponine was reluctant to ask any of the Amis for any kind of help that wasn't passing her something or holding one of the babies whilst she got it herself.

However, as the twins approached almost six months old, Éponine and Enjolras were obviously feeling the pressure of caring for two babies simultaneously. Evette started teething at around four months old, causing her to scream throughout the night. This, of course, kept Elyse awake and, much like her mother, would produce a very grumpy and sleep-deprived character throughout the next day.

Even Enjolras, still so often noted as the Man of Marble by the Amis, was beginning to crack. He not only had the pressures of being a father, but also of being the peoples' link to the government, and so had to maintain a professional attitude. It was safe to say that this wasn't easy with thirty minutes sleep a night.

It finally got to a point where Enjolras arrived for his monthly meeting with Monsieur Moreau, who was still working both with and against Enjolras (depending on the exact topic they were debating), and the elderly man sent him straight back home.

"I am not prepared to discuss  _anything_  with a man who is half asleep and can barely form words coherently," the government official had stated when Enjolras walked into his office on the third Tuesday of January.

Enjolras had proceeded to mutter incoherent words about him being completely awake, before the elderly man pushed him out of his office and sent him stumbling down the stairs.

Éponine, too, was feeling the pressures of being a mother to twins. It wasn't the fact that she had to deal with both babies alone most days; in fact, it wasn't like that at all. The Amis were always popping in to see her, whether they knew if they would see her at the Musain that evening or not. She and Enjolras were a great team and they managed to look after the twins together without too many major dramas.

However, both of those factors were what made the times when she  _was_ alone with the twins even more daunting. She found herself sitting on the bed she shared with Enjolras, staring at the crib on the other side of the room, not daring to try to sleep for the fear that the second she started to doze one of the twins would wake up and scream the building down.

Finally, just as the twins turned half a year old, the Amis decided to do something about it. Since the rebellion, which was now almost two years behind them, they had all learnt to be much more observant of each other. Of course, this meant that they also became a lot better at hiding things, but it, essentially, gave them all the skills to realise that Enjolras and Éponine weren't coping.

The pair very rarely branched into the outside world; Enjolras had postponed his meetings at the government for the next three months, because he could barely stay awake for long enough to even  _think_  about the latest problems affecting the people. He hated himself for it, but the rational, logical side of his brain made him realise that it was unavoidable. Éponine hadn't been to see her sister on the other side of Paris for weeks, and had cancelled  _her_  meetings with Marius and Grantaire (to discuss their ideas, as Enjolras' advisors) for the last two months, because she couldn't trust herself to take the twins out alone and she didn't want to burden Enjolras with both of them when he'd most likely be alone for the whole day.

And the most important thing: the Amis missed their friends. And so, they conspired against them.

* * *

"We haven't been  _conspiring_ , per se," Grantaire told the pair when Enjolras accused the Amis of precisely that, "We're worried about you, that's all."

"And I suppose it's completely too difficult to simply approach us and state that you were worried?" Éponine asked wearily, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"Look at you, 'Ponine," Combeferre said quietly, "Both of you. You're exhausted. I'm really quite surprised that you've managed to keep the twins satisfied!"

"Well, perhaps you could tell them that, and maybe they'd sleep through the night as a thank you," Éponine muttered, before groaning, leaning her head on her arms, which were crossed on the dining table in front of her, "I shouldn't say that," she said, her voice muffled, "I love them. Truly, I do. But they're just so..."

"Demanding?" Combeferre smirked, "I know. I have two sisters. Which is exactly why we were... 'conspiring' against you, though I use that term loosely."

The Amis had all agreed that Grantaire and Combeferre were the best people to send to confront their friends; Grantaire because anything genuinely serious coming from him would have to be believed, since it was so rare, and Combeferre because he, at least, would know to approach the subject with a little tact.

Which brought the four of them to the dining area in Enjolras and Éponine's apartment, the twins sound asleep in the crib, which had been brought out into the living room.

As if realising that she and her sister were being talked about, Evette chose that moment to wake up and cry loudly, causing Éponine and Enjolras to turn to each other and simultaneously say, "It's your turn!"

They both groaned, which just made Grantaire chuckle, "How about it's my turn?" he asked, pushing his chair back from the table, "And you two can go and get some sleep."

"Oh, we can't do that, Grantaire!" Éponine insisted, "It wouldn't be right to burden you with them."

"Tough," Grantaire shrugged, picked Evette up and rocking her gently in his arms, "I wouldn't be fulfilling my duty as an Uncle if I let you two work yourself into insanity."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but 'Taire is right," Combeferre shrugged, "You two need rest. It's not going to do either of the twins any good if you're too exhausted to look after them. Grantaire and I will look after them for a few hours. Maybe even take them for a walk later. But you two honestly look like the dead have started walking."

"Charming," Enjolras muttered, but pushed his chair back nonetheless, "Thank you," he said sincerely to his two friends, "And I mean,  _really_ : thank you. You have absolutely no idea how much we appreciate this."

"Agreed," Éponine said, though it was barely understandable due to the fact that she yawned whilst saying it. Grantaire laughed.

"To bed with you," he said, "'Ferre and I will wake you when you two need to take over. If it's dark when you wake up and there's no one home, then we've gone to the Musain and taken the twins with us."

"Don't even think about it," Éponine said sternly as Enjolras took her hand and pulled her towards the bedroom, "I am not prepared to let you take my children to a social event when I or Enjolras are not present. I know  _exactly_  what you lot get up to in your spare time."

"Whatever you say, Athena," Grantaire said absentmindedly, sitting on the sofa and bouncing Evette on his knee, clearly not listening to a word Éponine was saying.

Just as she was about to scold him, Enjolras pulled her more firmly towards their bedroom, "Just leave it, Athena," he said, somewhat amusedly, "I trust Combeferre to supervise if they do take the twins to the Musain. And even if I didn't, Marius and Cosette will be there; they're going on a trip to their holiday home in a few weeks, and I'm sure they can't wait to tell everyone about it."

Éponine glared at him for a moment, but sighed, "Fine," she muttered grudgingly, "But if I find out that someone has 'misplaced' one of the twins, or that they 'accidentally' caused someone an injury, so help me, you will be the first person I kill."

"I can deal with that," he said, kissing her lightly on the lips before the two fell into bed, not bothering to change, the covers draped loosely over the two of them as they slept properly in each other's embrace for the first time in months.

* * *

Little did they know that the surprise was not yet over. Combeferre and Grantaire did take the twins later that evening, reluctantly waking Éponine (and feeling her wrath because of it) to feed the twins before they left.

Leaving their two friends to sleep, they reached the Musain and entered to find everyone already assembled, as they had agreed the day before.

"Okay, first point of business," Grantaire said, "I need a drink. Second point of business: Evette needs changing, and I don't have a clue how." He looked around at his friends, all of whom were suddenly busy with something. Cosette rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically.

"Give her to me," she demanded, "I'll do it." Taking a bag of baby supplies from a very grateful Combeferre, she disappeared into an empty side room, muttering about men being incapable and childish.

"Marius, take your goddaughter," Combeferre begged, handing Elyse to him without even waiting for an answer, "My arms are aching."

"Man up, 'Ferre," Courfeyrac said jokily, Gavroche sitting on his lap, "You should try carrying Gavroche around all day."

"Oi!" Gavroche said indignantly, "I take offence to that." Courf laughed.

"No offence intended, of course, mon ami," he said, winking cheerfully at Gavroche who poked his tongue out at his friend.

" _Anyway_ ," Grantaire returned with a bottle of wine, considerably happier now that he had alcohol in his system, "Third point of business: where are we at on the mission?"

They spent the next few hours discussing their plans, ironing out the details and trying to make sure that it would work.

"Okay, mes amis," Grantaire said loudly later that night, receiving an angry 'shhh!' from Cosette as she rocked a sleeping Elyse in her arms, "I think we've done it. Now all we need is to contact our dear upper-class devils..."

"Grantaire, that really is very offensive!" Cosette scolded, though the Amis around her were howling with laughter, "Besides, they only dislike  _you_!"

"They weren't particularly fond of me, either," Marius said, his laughter reduced to a smile at Cosette's glare, "Not at first anyway. We get on now."

"Enjolras would probably agree with me, Cosette," Grantaire shrugged, "Even _he_ had to warn Éponine before she met them."

"That is besides the point," she huffed, and they all made a silent pact to not mention it again, though they were in higher spirits now than they had been earlier, having to debate and organise something that certainly wasn't an easy task.

* * *

When Enjolras and Éponine woke again, it was morning. Éponine was the first to wake, and, looking to the other side of the room where the crib normally was, panicked at the sight of a crib-less corner.

"Apollo," she shook him desperately, " _Enjolras! Wake up!_ " he jerked awake, looking around wildly.

"What is it, what's happened?!" he said loudly, his bearings all over the place. When he realised that he was in bed, however, he relaxed somewhat, "'Ponine? Has something happened?"

"The crib!" she said, her voice high pitched with worry, "Where is it?!" Enjolras frowned.

"Maybe Combeferre and Grantaire left it in the living room?" he suggested, slightly worried at the fact that the twins had slept without company all night.

He and Éponine, however, upon entering the living room, found that this wasn't the case. For, sprawled on the floor and on the sofa, were a snoring Combeferre and Courfeyrac. They could hear Gavroche's light breathing through the open door of his bedroom, and, sleeping in their crib, were Evette and Elyse.

"What... on  _Earth_?!" Éponine muttered, taking in the scene.

"I would be annoyed at the fact that they practically broke in to our apartment," Enjolras said quietly, "But that was the best night's sleep I've had in  _weeks_."

" _Months_." Éponine corrected him, tiptoeing across the room and starting to make breakfast.

Courfeyrac lifted his head off of the hard wooden floor, hearing their voices.

"Good morning," Enjolras said, smirking.

"I think I've damaged every muscle in my body..." he muttered grumpily, "You should get a comfier floor."

"Or, failing that, you could have used the bed in the spare bedroom...?" Éponine suggested, putting a pan of water on the stove to boil for tea.

"There's a bed in the spare bedroom?!" Courf said regretfully, "I thought that was the twins' nursery?!"

"It  _is_ ," Enjolras told him, "But not yet. When they're old enough for 'Ponine and I to leave them alone at night,  _then_  it will be their nursery. Until then, it's still a spare bedroom."

Courf groaned, "I really wish I'd known that before saying that 'Ferre could take the sofa," he murmured, getting up and trying to stretch the aches in his back and neck out.

Gavroche then entered the room, yawning and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, "Morning," he said, grinning as he saw Courf's discomfort, "I did ask why you weren't sleeping in a bed."

"And forgot to mention that there was a  _spare_  one!" Courf grumbled, "Can we just stop talking about it, please?"

"Talking about what?" Combeferre asked, sitting up on the sofa.

" _Nothing_." Courfeyrac insisted hastily.

"Thank you for last night," Éponine said, changing the subject before the boys got onto a full-scale debate, "It was a much-needed break."

"Don't mention it," Combeferre grinned, "It was good to have some quality time with the twins. And, er, to talk about... other stuff."

"What other stuff?" Enjolras asked, frowning, "And, just a warning: there's only one right answer. It begins with 'r' and ends in 'evolution', and it is most commonly preceded by the word 'the'."

"Actually, it had nothing to do with that," Courf said, shrugging, "There were more important matters to talk about."

"Careful, Courf," Éponine said, her tone deliberately serious and sarcastic, "You may still have his weapons in your possession, but Enjolras can get pretty creative when he's annoyed..."

"For example, there's a rolling pin in the third drawer from the left in the kitchen," Enjolras smirked. Courfeyrac rolled his eyes.

"Whatever you say, dearest leader," he said, bowing mockingly, "And whoever said that Enjolras' weapons were in  _my_  possession?! They could be on the other side of Paris for all he knows..." Enjolras' face darkened.

"If you have placed my weapons anywhere that will prevent me from reaching them in an emergency, Courfeyrac, so help me, I will implement some of my more creative methods of combat with you as my opponent." Courf merely laughed again, joining Combeferre on the sofa as Éponine produced tea for everyone.

"So what  _were_  you talking about?" she asked, looking over the side of the crib to check that the twins were , a) alive, and b) still asleep, smiling at how the twins were almost curled around each other as they slept soundly. She brought a chair over from the dining table to sit with the boys in the living room, Gavroche scrambling back into his rightful spot on Courf's lap. Enjolras sat down on Éponine's chair before she could, and she looked at him, her eyes wide with shock and her face annoyed, before gasping as he pulled her onto his lap, almost spilling her tea all over the floor.

Before answering, Courf and Combeferre shared a knowing look that clearly said 'Shall we tell them?'. It was Gavroche who saved Enjolras and Éponine the annoyance of having to wait.

"Just tell them," he told his friends, rolling his eyes. Combeferre chuckled.

"We've been conspiring again." He said simply.

"Again?" Enjolras said, rolling his eyes.

"Well, technically it's still the same conspiracy," Courf grinned, "You two are going on holiday."

"You expect us to take the twins on holiday? In a hotel, where we are surrounded by people? I think not." Éponine said defiantly.

"The twins are staying with Enjolras' parents," Combeferre said smugly, "We got someone to take a letter last night, and we got a reply this morning. And you're not staying in a hotel."

"Then where?" Enjolras asked, a confused frown on his face.

"Marius' grandfather's country house," Courf smirked, "Apparently the usual tenants are going away for a few months. Something about the woman's mother being sick. Whatever it was, the house is empty and Marius' grandfather has said that he may use it as he pleases. So you're going away, for two weeks, with Marius and Cosette."

"Don't worry, the estate it huge; you'll probably barely see them," Combeferre added, seeing how Enjolras reacted to the announcement that he would be staying in the same house as Cosette for two weeks.

"And I suppose we don't get a say in this?" Éponine asked, thought a small smile was tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"None at all," Combeferre agreed, "Doctor's orders."

"But, what about the twins?" Éponine asked suddenly.

"They'll be with Enjolras' parents. I've already told you that!" Courfeyrac said indignantly, thinking that Éponine hadn't been listening.

"Yes, yes, I  _know_  that!" Éponine said, "But... I don't think I could last two weeks without seeing them." Courf and Combeferre frowned.

"I suppose we could bring them to visit," Combeferre suggested, "Maybe after the first week."

"You need a break, 'Ponine," Courf said, serious now, "A proper break. You and Enjolras are killing yourselves trying to cope with both of the twins. It's not forever, you know."

"I know," she sighed, almost sadly, "I miss them, that's all." Enjolras hugged her, his arms wrapped around her waist.

"They'll be fine," he promised her, "You saw how much my parents love them. Though, I honestly don't think they know what they've gotten themselves in for..."

"You don't leave for another couple of weeks," Combeferre reasoned, "By then, you'll be welcoming another break."

"And you'll bring them to visit?" Éponine asked again, "More than once?"

Courf sighed, "If that is what Lady 'Ponine wants, then I suppose it's what she'll get." He said, grinning cheekily at her, standing up, "Now, I'm going home to sleep in an actual bed. Thanks for the tea, Éponine."

"I want my weapons back!" Enjolras called as Courf and Gavroche left.

"Not a chance," Courfeyrac called back, laughing. Enjolras rolled his eyes.

"I should be off too," Combeferre said reluctantly, "I've got to get to work. Sorry for leaving you two so soon."

"You've done more than enough, 'Ferre," Enjolras told his friend, smiling, "Truly, you have. We're really grateful."

"And thank you in advance for the holiday," Éponine added as he left.

"What are friends for?" he questioned, smiling, before shutting the door behind him.

"We do have great friends, don't we?" Éponine said fondly, turning her head to look at Enjolras.

"Yes," he said, kissing her softly, "We do indeed."


	29. A Holiday to Remember

**What if Enjolras and Éponine's holiday didn't get off to the smoothest of starts?**

Two weeks later, Éponine waved out of the back window of the carriage until the Amis were out of sight. Enjolras took her hand in his, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb.

"We'll be back before you know it," he said, smiling. She smiled back.

"I know," she said quietly. She budged up closer to him and he wrapped his arm around her, "But that doesn't mean I won't miss them. The twins especially."

Enjolras kissed her head comfortingly, "We'll see them on Monday," he said reasonably. She nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"I can't believe that we're staying with Cosette and Marius for  _two whole weeks_..." she muttered, "Do we have some kind of death wish?!"

"Apparently so," Enjolras said wearily, "All four of us... in the same house..."

"I'll be surprised if we go home still sane." Éponine said, her voice deadly serious.

"I'll be surprised if we go home  _alive_." Enjolras said, his tone equally serious. Éponine sat up straighter, her head leaving Enjolras' shoulder and the two looked at each other. They went on to simultaneously start laughing, and sincerely hoped that it wasn't going to be as bad as they predicted.

They stopped halfway to the house to let the horses rest and eat some lunch (which Cosette had so lovingly packed, picnic blanket and all). Temperatures had been below freezing for the best part of a fortnight, resulting in the layer of snow that had fallen at the beginning of the month to freeze to the ground. Now, however, temperatures had risen enough for the snow to melt away, leaving the four wrapped up in coats as they ate their pre-packed meal.

"You'll love the house, 'Ponine," Cosette said happily as Éponine helped her lay out the blanket and all the food, "It's so beautiful. It's right in the middle of the countryside, surrounded by the most perfect landscape..." Éponine wasn't particularly thrilled; she had grown up in the city, after all, and the countryside seemed a little... well, boring.

"I'm sure it'll be incredible, Cosette," she said, smiling at her friend; it really wouldn't do to upset Cosette before they ever got there.

Enjolras, meanwhile, was busy having the most awkward conversation with Marius that it was possible to have.

"So, er... Enjolras?" Marius said quietly. Enjolras looked up from the report for the government he had been writing in the carriage.

"Yes, Marius?" Enjolras said, looking back to the piece of parchment in his hand.

"You and 'Ponine..." Marius stopped for a moment, considering his word choice, "You two are parents now."

"Yes," Enjolras frowned, looking up at his friend once again, "Believe it or not, Marius, that's the reason I'm currently willing to spend a fortnight with you and your wife." Marius grimaced, but continued.

"Well... how did you... make that happen?" Enjolras gaped for a second, his eyes widening.

"Marius... obviously not your grandfather, but... I was sure Cosette's father must have had that talk with you..."

"No! No, no, no, that's not what I meant!" Marius said loudly, earning him a confused glance from Cosette. He waved, smiling, trying to cover up his hasty protest.

"Then... what  _did_ you mean?" Enjolras asked, now completely confused.

"I  _meant_... how did you two agree to... do the deed, so to speak?" Marius said, his face red from embarrassment.

" _Oh_!" Enjolras exclaimed, "Well, we just sort of... we, er..." he sighed, "We were completely drunk out of our minds... We got to that hotel when we went away after the incident with Éponine's father, we had a home-cooked meal and some wine...  _lots_  of wine. Apparently, that was the night someone wanted us to... 'do the deed'."

Marius looked up in shock, laughing loudly, "Of all the ways you could have been blessed with a baby,  _twins_  no less...!" he laughed again, shaking his head incredulously.

"Enjolras, did you just tell him?" Éponine demanded from the picnic blanket, a frown on her face.

"He asked!" Enjolras called back, "I can't  _lie_!"

"Of course you can!" Éponine protested, "It's easy!"

"What are you talking about?!" Cosette asked, looking ridiculously confused.

" _Nothing_." Enjolras and Éponine said simultaneously, their tones making the discussion final.

"I'd advise against doing it our way, Pontmercy," Enjolras muttered, clasping his friend on the shoulder, "It only gets your into trouble later on..." he walked back over to a sulking Éponine, who stubbornly looked away as he sat down next to her.

"Athena," Enjolras whined, "Please don't be angry at me!"

"I don't think I've ever heard Enjolras sound so vulnerable," Marius muttered, taking a seat on the blanket next to Cosette.

"Shut up, Pontmercy," Enjolras growled, "This is your fault."

"Don't blame it on Marius!" Éponine said angrily, "We promised to never speak of it!"

"There's not much point in being  _ashamed_ , 'Ponine," Marius said reasonably, "It did give you the twins after all..."

"Shut up, Pontmercy, this is your fault!" Éponine snapped, looking away. When she looked back, Enjolras was smirking, "I don't know what  _you're_  smiling about!" she continued angrily, "It's your fault too! And another thing, I-"

Enjolras leaned in and kissed her, stopping her mid-sentence. When they broke apart, Éponine gaped for a moment, before looking down.

"Forgiven." She muttered, wrapping her hand in his. Enjolras smirked at Marius again, and Marius really would have considered saying something potentially very offensive if he didn't want to lose his job.

"Dare I ask?" Cosette asked wearily, emptying a paper bag of fresh strawberries onto a plate.

"You probably shouldn't," Éponine offered as an answer. Cosette held her hands up in surrender, leaning into Marius' embrace as he wrapped his arm around her.

"Dig in, then," Cosette said, passing everyone a plate, "I'm sure I'll find out soon enough..." the boys managed to demolish half of the food within the first ten minutes, Cosette stating that they were animals and only filling half of her plate up, refilling it when need be. Éponine ate a strawberry or two, but otherwise didn't eat anything, but no one seemed to notice as she told a hilarious story regarding Enjolras playing peek-a-boo with Evette.

At some point during their lunch, Éponine managed to manoeuvre her way onto Enjolras' lap, and was feeding him a strawberry when she sighed.

"I miss the twins," she muttered, leaning her forehead on his. He copied her sigh before frowning, leaning back so that her forehead left his and placing a hand where his head had been just moment earlier.

"Christ, 'Ponine, you're boiling!" he muttered. Éponine frowned.

"Maybe your hand's just hot," she suggested. Enjolras gave her a look that clearly said 'really?'. She shrugged, "It's plausible!"

"You've definitely got a fever," Enjolras assured her, "I should have realised you weren't well when you started arguing with me... you're always grumpy when you're sick..."

"I am not!" Éponine snapped. Enjolras gave her the look again and she glared at him, "You just like being right."

"Only when I know that I actually  _am_  right," he said grinning, "Perhaps we should turn back..."

"Don't you dare," Cosette said threateningly, "If 'Ponine is ill then the last thing she needs to two screaming babies around. No, you are most certainly  _not_  turning back." Enjolras held his hand up in surrender (honestly, the woman could be scary when she wanted to be!).

"Fine," he said grudgingly, "But we should at least get going."

"Agreed," Cosette said, nodding authoritatively, starting to pack up the last of the lunch.

"I feel fine!" Éponine protested, "Honestly! There's no need to pack up early."

"Oh, no," Enjolras said, "No way am I waiting for you to actually realise that you're ill before we leave. I'm not being stuck in a carriage with sick 'Ponine."

"You are a mean man, you know that?" she grumbled as she got to her feet, Enjolras following her lead.

"And you're ill, and I'm not prepared to let you get even more sick. Believe it or not, it is still February, and your shawl won't keep out endless cold. The last thing we need to you coming down with pneumonia or something..."

"Assuming that I'm not already coming down with pneumonia?" Éponine teased grumpily.

"You really are very tetchy when you're sick," Enjolras said with a smile, starting to help Cosette clear away their lunch but having her wave him off.

"Go and get Éponine in the warm," Cosette said smiling. He nodded, smiling back gratefully, leading his fiancée back to their carriage.

"I don't feel ill!" Éponine protested again as he helped her to climb in, before sighing and resting her head against the window, looking out with an irritated expression on her face.

"Yet..." Enjolras muttered so quietly only he could hear.

* * *

Éponine was in a foul mood by the time they reached the country house later that evening, and she had already screamed at the driver to stop the coach so that she could leap out and throw up in a bush.

"Please tell me that you're not pregnant again," Enjolras said wryly as he got out after her to see if she was alright.

"I'm not pregnant," she promised him, "I am definitely not pregnant again. I cannot deal with another pregnancy like the last one... no, two babies is quite enough thank you."

"You're rambling," he said, wrapping an arm around her waist as they walked back to the carriage.

"I know," Éponine whined, "I feel awful."

"I did try to tell you," Enjolras said.

"No one likes people who say 'I told you so', Apollo," Éponine said sulkily, kicking her boots off and curling up on the bench with her head in Enjolras' lap, "I have a headache..." she muttered bitterly, "Why do these things happen at the most inappropriate times?!"

"Because life is never easy," he told her, before kissing her forehead lightly, "Is your headache better?"

"No," she said quietly, "But thanks for trying."

Enjolras smiled fondly, "Always, 'Ponine."

As much as the pair hated to admit it, Marius and Cosette were both telling the truth in regards to the house: it  _was_  beautiful. Nothing too extravagant and it would definitely let Éponine and Enjolras to disappear for a few hours if the other two were getting on their nerves. Éponine didn't hesitate to murmur this fact to Enjolras as their bags were carried in by a butler.

"The only place you're disappearing to is bed," he told her, "I would like to have  _some_  kind of quality time with you during this holiday, and that's not going to happen if you're sick."

"Spoil sport," she muttered, followed Cosette and Marius into the house and dragging Enjolras behind her.

Despite Éponine's protests that her fiancé was a 'spoil sport', she managed to fall asleep reasonably quickly and without too much of a fuss.

"I feel like a child," she murmured as she climbed into bed, Enjolras fanning the covers down on top of her to try and reduce her fever slightly. He smiled slightly at a memory.

"And what, Monsieur DuFay, is so funny?" she demanded.

"Oh, alright, we're going with last names now, are we?" he asked amusedly as Éponine nodded at him smugly, "If you must know, Mademoiselle Thénardier, what you just said stirred a memory from after the barricades."

"Oh really?" she asked, "What did I say again?"

"You said 'I feel like a child'," he clarified, "Which was exactly what you said when you were first staying with me." Éponine smiled, now also remembering.

"They were good times, weren't they?" she asked quietly, pulling him down to sit on the bed next to her.

"Yes," he said, "But these times are better."

"Well, except for the screaming children and the being ill before our holiday has even started..."

Enjolras chuckled, "Apart from that." He agreed.

"Almost two years we've been together, Enjolras," she murmured, laying her head in his lap again, "Two whole years. And two beautiful children. We really should start planning the wedding, shouldn't we?"

"Probably," Enjolras shrugged, "It can wait. There's no rush, after all."

"No rush," Éponine agreed quietly, before falling asleep. Enjolras smiled at his fiancée; maybe the wedding planning couldn't wait  _too_  long...

He sat with Éponine a while longer, making sure that she really was asleep, not wanting to leave her alone if she was awake and sick (which really wasn't a good combination). When he finally went downstairs, he found a maid waiting at the bottom of the stairs for him.

"Monsieur Marius and his wife are in the dining room," she told him smiling, "It's down the corridor and the fourth door on the right. They're expecting you."

"Merci, mademoiselle," he said, nodding in respect to her. She blushed slightly at the gesture, before disappearing into another room.

Enjolras joined Marius and Cosette, sitting at the small dining table where his friends were eating dinner.

"How's Éponine?" Cosette asked worriedly.

"Sleeping," he told her, "She was fine when I left... well, she wasn't delirious with fever or anything like that. I think she's just got the flu. Joly's coming down with Courf and Gavroche on Monday, if she's still not well then, then I'll talk to him about it." Cosette nodded in approval, taking a sip of wine from her glass.

"It's strange for Éponine to be ill," she commented.

"When you've lived with her when she's pregnant, the flu is nothing, believe me," Enjolras muttered, taking the wine that Marius handed him. In all truthfulness, Marius was surprised that his friend had accepted the drink, and then remembered that Enjolras had been stuck in the carriage with a sick Éponine all day.

"Éponine was definitely scarier when she was pregnant," Marius agreed, "But she's a lot more argumentative when she's sick."

"You should have been there when she was pregnant  _and_  sick..." Enjolras said, "It was ridiculous. Her only argument was 'I'm right because I'm pregnant', no matter what the subject was. It was a nightmare!"

"Why?" Cosette asked, smirking, "Because you actually lost for once?" Marius laughed and Enjolras rolled his eyes, ignoring his friends as he helped himself to the food sat in the middle of the table.

"Cosette is kind of right though," Marius said, changing the subject, "It is strange for Éponine to get sick, so quickly at least. She was fine when we left this morning."

"Well, we  _thought_  she was fine," Enjolras argued, "And, in all fairness, so did she. Even when faced with the evidence of grumpiness and a fever."

"Well, it's not exactly strange for her to be grumpy..."

"Watch what you're saying, Pontmercy, I'm sure there's a sword mounted on a wall somewhere in this house, and I will not hesitate to find it and-"

" _And_  that's enough of that conversation!" Cosette intercepted quickly, "My point  _was_ I'm not used to seeing Éponine being sick. It's strange to me." Enjolras glared at Marius before starting to eat his food.

"The only thing I find strange about Éponine being ill is that she is missing dinner."

* * *

When Enjolras went back up to the room he and Éponine were sleeping in, he found her fever still raging and Éponine throwing the covers all over the place as she was plagued by a bad dream.

"Éponine?" he shook her shoulder lightly, "Éponine." He said her name more firmly and had to dodge her hand as it came flying at his face.

His attempt to wake her unsuccessful, he walked into the en-suite bathroom and picked up a bowl that was sitting on the side and a washcloth. He filled the bowl with water from the jug of water that had been waiting for them in their room when they arrived (he had put it on the window-ledge and shut the windows behind it, fearing that an event for freezing cold water would arise when Éponine had a fever). The water had been successfully cooled in the freezing February night, and Enjolras allowed himself to thank the Lord for making him such a genius.

Wetting the washcloth, he wiped the fever-induced sweat from Éponine's forehead, dodging flailing limbs every so often as the nightmare continued. After a while, he left the cool cloth laying on her forehead, and began to sing her a lullaby that she was particularly fond of.

After a while, Éponine's subconscious seemed to register his voice, and Éponine sat up suddenly, almost head-butting Enjolras in the process.

"'Ponine?" Enjolras said worried, "Are you alright? I tried waking you but all I got in return was the threat of a black eye..."

"I'm fine," she said shakily, "Bad dream...  _very_  bad dream. Only-capable-of-being-caused-by-a-fever-bad dream. Have I ever mentioned that I  _hate_  being ill?"

"Do you want to talk about it?" Enjolras asked. Éponine shook her head.

"Not tonight," she said quietly, "Maybe in the morning, if I remember. My head hurts."

Enjolras retrieved the washcloth from the end of the bed, where it had been flung from Éponine's forehead. She smiled as he handed it to her. "You are perfect." She told him, kissing him lightly.

"Go back to sleep," he said smiling.

"Only if you come with me," she said, though she said it through a yawn and her eyes were already drooping.

"Of course," he promised, "Let me get changed first.

"That is a very good idea," she agreed, laying back down with the washcloth covering her forehead and her eyes, curled up on her side in a tight ball. Enjolras smiled at the scene, getting changed and climbing into bed next to her.

Éponine immediately curled into his side, "Love you." She murmured.

He kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arm around her, "Love you too."

* * *

The next morning, Éponine's fever still hadn't broken, and she seemed to be getting hotter by the minute.

"Maybe we should get a doctor..." he said, crouching beside her side of the bed and refilling the bowl with cold water, placing the cloth back on Éponine's head.

"I don't need a doctor," she said, her voice croaky, "It's the flu, Enjolras. It won't kill me."

"It  _might_!" he protested. She glared at him, so he sighed dejectedly, "Fine," he said, "But... don't die on me, Éponine. You know why." She smiled slightly.

"Because you can't risk losing me again," she said, pulling on his shirt so that his face with close enough for her to kiss him, "I know. Believe me, Apollo, if you were in my place, I'd probably be thinking the same as you. But I'm not in your place, so you're going to go and enjoy the holiday without me, and I promise to not die." She concluded her speech by coughing, the action causing her to collapse against the pillows and moan in pain.

"How very reassuring..." he muttered, rolling his eyes, "I'm getting Joly to make sure you're not dying when he arrives on Monday."

"Fine," she muttered, "Now go away and enjoy yourself."

"Charming!" he said, laughing.

"You know I love you really," she said, smirking as she rolled on her side again to try to get back to sleep.

Enjolras smiled, "I love you too."

He made his way down to the dining room for breakfast and found Marius sitting alone.

"No Cosette?" he questioned, taking a croissant from the tray in the centre of the table.

"She's ill," Marius said, frowning concernedly, "With whatever Éponine's come down with, no doubt. I've left her with a maid."

"Ever the romantic..." Enjolras muttered to himself.

"What was that?" Marius questioned.

"Nothing, nothing," Enjolras said hastily, "So, did you have any plans for today or..."

"I thought we could go horse riding?" Marius suggested. Enjolras choked on his croissant.

"You thought  _what_?!"

* * *

Éponine sighed as Enjolras left the room; it was so bloody typical for her to get sick when they were supposed to be having a relaxing fortnight away (if staying with Cosette and Marius could be considered 'relaxing', that is).

She felt awful, not just because her entire body was aching and every cough made her chest feel like it was ready to explode, not to mention the fact that there seemed to be a rather large marching band drumming in a parade inside her head. She also felt bad for making Enjolras worry.

She was lucky to have him, she knew she was. He was always there when she needed him, and he never once complained about having to take care of her when she was ill (or pregnant as the case had been). But it did make her feel like she was keeping him from things much more exciting.

She fell asleep about midmorning, and when she woke the position of the rarely-seen sun outside told her that it must be early afternoon. She turned away from the window, the light from the sun hurting her eyes, and found a piece of bread and a glass of water sitting on the bedside table with a note lying next to them. Smiling, she unfolded the piece of parchment, recognising Enjolras' flawless penmanship.

_My dearest 'Ponine_

_Marius has taken me horse riding. If you dare laugh, I will tickle you into submission as revenge the second you are well again._

_Cosette is ill too; Marius is slightly lost without his beloved. He hasn't stopped talking about how worried he is from the second I walked into breakfast. Please tell your best friend to never, ever, be sick again._

_I asked one of the maids to keep an eye on you (Marius and Cosette have far too many members of staff at their disposal). I left some bread, if you haven't seen already; you haven't eaten in two days (and I know you'll be thinking it, so you're right when you say I'll lecture you if it isn't gone when I get back)._

_Remember your promise._

_Much love,_

_Enjolras x_

Éponine found herself rubbing her thumb over the small 'x' at the end of the note; the ink was slightly darker than it was on the rest of the letter, making Éponine assume that he had added it as an afterthought.

Looking at the note for a few more moments before putting it to one side, Éponine pulled herself into a sitting position, which was apparently easier thought than done. Her body screamed at her for even trying to move, but Éponine just frowned frustratedly; she  _hated_ being ill.

She picked at the bread uninterestedly, still not hungry despite missing the last four meals. After finishing the bread to avoid a lecture from Enjolras later, she sipped at the water, actually examining the room she was in for the first time. It was a pretty room; not too over-the-top, but not bare. It had beige walls, with paintings in frames dotted around. The bed was comfortable, and the bedside tables matched the desk in the corner and the chest of drawers to one side. There were little ornaments on the chest of drawers, and miniature chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Éponine smiled; she could definitely get used to living here.

Then her thoughts drifted to the fact that there was no crib in the corner, no homemade patchwork quilt hanging from the back of a chair by the bed, no little bears on the floor that often fell out of the crib when Éponine and Enjolras picked a screaming twin from the crib late at night.

Éponine sighed; she missed her twins.

Desperate to take her mind off the longing to hold one of her babies in her arms, Éponine leant forward and opened the drawer of the bedside table, hoping to find a book of some sort. What she found was the book she had been meaning to finish for weeks, but had been too exhausted to even look at. As she got to the place where she had last marked her page, she found another note from Enjolras.

_I thought you might get bored. Try not to make your headache worse._

_Enjolras x_

She chuckled slightly; her fiancé really was perfect.

* * *

Said fiancé would beg to differ at that point in time. Sitting awkwardly atop a rather large horse, he was honestly ready to kill Marius Pontmercy.

"Marius, honestly, this isn't my thing." Enjolras protested once again.

"You haven't even tried it!" Marius argued, "Just give it a go!"

"Horses are much better at pulling carriages," Enjolras muttered to himself as the horse he was on followed Marius down a gap in the trees surrounding the house, "Just because you rode a horse to the barricades, Marius, doesn't mean that everyone has an undeniable love for horses!"

"Will you just stop complaining?!" Marius begged.

"No I will not!" Enjolras said stubbornly.

"I think you're getting sick too," Marius muttered, "You're always argumentative when you're sick..."

" _I'm always argumentative._ "

"You said it, not me," Marius said smirking.

"If I get thrown off this horse, Pontmercy, I want compensation." Enjolras said.

"Of course, dearest leader," Marius laughed, "But you won't get thrown off. Old Daisy's a big softie." The following events occurred as if Marius had spoken some kind of spell.

Marius honestly did try to find it less funny as 'Old Daisy' then got spooked by a squirrel and raced off down the lane with Enjolras clinging onto the reigns for dear life. But, truly, it was the most hilarious thing he had ever seen, and so he dissolved into hysterical laughter.

"MARIUS!" Enjolras roared, "MAKE IT STOP!"

By the time Marius had reached where Daisy was now grazing happily and Enjolras was massaging a spraining ankle, he had managed to stem his laughter slightly.

"Enjolras, honestly, that was hilarious," Marius assured him as he dismounted his horse,.

"No it wasn't," Enjolras muttered, "And just for the record, trying to get off a bolting horse is a very bad idea..."

"What did you do?" Marius asked, sitting down on the cold ground next to his friend.

"The stirrup came lose," Enjolras told him, "Excellent workmanship there," he added sarcastically, "So I thought I might as well try and get off. I landed on my foot at a rather displeasing angle..."

The only sympathy he received was Marius bursting into laughter again.


	30. Home is Where the Heart Is

**What if Enjolras and Éponine really don't know the meaning of the word 'holiday'?**

Éponine raised her eyebrows amusedly as Enjolras hobbled into the room. "How was horse riding?" she questioned, trying to disguise her need to laugh hysterically.

"I don't want to talk about it," he grumbled into his pillow as he collapsed onto the bed next to her, lying on his stomach with his head buried in the pillow.

"Oh, please tell me!" she begged, "I need  _something_  to laugh about!"

He sighed, "The horse bolted and I twisted my ankle when I tried to get off."

Éponine looked shocked for a moment, and then a huge grin split across her face, "You fell off?!"

"No!" Enjolras protested, "I just... dismounted wrong."

"It  _sounds_  like you fell off," Éponine told him, chuckling quietly, "Why didn't you just take control of the horse like a normal person?!"

"Oh! It never occurred to me to do that! Thanks for that amazing revelation, 'Ponine!" he said sarcastically, sitting up and leaning against the wall behind him, "I  _tried_  to take control of it, but it got spooked by something, so it didn't do much good..."

"I thought you bourgeois types were supposed to be experts at handling horses," Éponine said, smirking, "Marius always used to complain about being forced to learn how to ride."

"I used to have lessons," Enjolras told her, "But I hate horses. So I turned around to my parents when I was ten and refused to go anymore. My mother was furious."

"Didn't they force you to go?" Éponine asked; she couldn't believe that Enjolras' parents would really just let a ten-year-old Enjolras refuse to do something.

"Oh, they tried," Enjolras grinned, "I just snuck off and hid in the stables reading a book until they came to pick me up again. When they found out, they said that they weren't wasting money on something I blatantly wasn't going to do, so I didn't have to go anymore."

Éponine laughed, "Enjolras DuFay, taking charge of people bigger than him for over ten years!" she said jokily. He rolled his eyes.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"A bit better," she said, shrugging, "I told you; it's just the flu. I'm not going to die."

"Hmm," he raised his eyebrows, "We'll see. Your fever still hasn't broken," he said, placing a hand on her forehead. It was Éponine's turn to roll her eyes.

"I'm fine, Apollo," she insisted, "But I am  _insanely_  bored and  _I'm missing my twins_."

"So you keep saying," he said, shuffling closer to her on the bed so that she could lean her head on his shoulder, "Did you finish your book?"

"Yes," Éponine smiled, "Rubbish ending."

They descended into silence for a minute, before Enjolras approached a subject that could be potentially touchy, "Do you want to talk about your dream from last night?" Éponine sighed.

"It was nothing," she said, "Really. Just a nightmare."

"So is that a no?" he asked, smiling slightly. She shrugged.

"It was just about my father and his gang," she said quietly, "Nothing unusual. It was just... unexpected. And more than a little bit frightening."

"You know that if he comes anywhere near you without the best of intentions then he's going to get some kind of weapon threatening something he does _not_ want to lose, don't you?" Enjolras asked. Éponine chuckled.

"I'd expect nothing less," she told him, "But it wasn't me who was being targeted in my dream. I know  _I'm_  safe..." Enjolras finally clicked; there really was only one thing that would scare Éponine to the extent she had been the night before.

"The twins were in danger, weren't they?" Enjolras asked her. Éponine sighed again.

"He took them away," she started, "Took them, right in front of me, and sold them on to members of the gang. What they did... it was horrific, Enjolras."

"The twins are safe," Enjolras promised her, wrapping his arms around her and kissing the top of her head, "My parents would die before they let anyone touch them, not to mention the fact that they'll be having the Amis wandering in and out of their house every day to see the twins. Your father wouldn't dare go near them."

"But it was my fault," Éponine said, tears in her eyes, "I just let him take them away from me. How could I do that?!"

"You didn't do it," he said firmly, "It was a dream, Éponine, nothing more. I'd never let anyone hurt the twins, or you. Not ever."

"I know," she wiped away a tear that was rolling down her cheek; "I know it was a dream. I'm being silly."

"You're being a mother," Enjolras told her, smiling slightly, "Which is how I know that you'd never let your father get close enough to even see the twins, let alone take them away from you."

Éponine sniffled, "You're too nice to me," she said, "I used to hate you, you know."

"Oh, well, thanks very much!" Enjolras said, chuckling.

"I don't anymore, obviously," Éponine said, "But you were always so cocky, so loud, when you were talking about the revolution and you never seemed to take a break. I thought you were a bit... annoying, really."

"You're really not helping your case..." Enjolras said, pretending to be angry.

"Do you want to know a secret?" Éponine said, ignoring her fiancé's comment.

"Go on, then," he said, sighing, "I guess I'll have to deal with my wounded ego for a while longer..."

"You're hilarious," Éponine said dryly, "When I was in the Musain one night, before the barricades, you were up in front of everyone, preaching your ideas, handing out orders, being your usual cocky self. I was sat with Grantaire, and I told him how much you annoyed me-"

"Again with the annoying?" Enjolras interrupted, smirking.

" _Annoyed_ ," she corrected, "Past tense. I told him how much you annoyed me and he said 'you're going to marry him if we make it through this blasted revolution'."

"He said  _what_?!" Enjolras spluttered. Éponine grinned.

"That shut you up, didn't it?!" she said smugly.

"He... sorry, he said  _what_?!" Enjolras was shocked; Grantaire was a lot of things (a cynic, a drunk and a pain in the backside to name but a few) but he certainly wasn't psychic.

"I know," Éponine said, shrugging, "I didn't believe it either. In fact, I believe my exact words were 'you must be more drunk than usual if you think that'. I'm just glad I didn't bet anything on it... If I  _had_ bet anything, then I wouldn't be where I am right now, with my perfect fiancé who I would like to thank very much for my lunch and my book."

"I figured you might need something to keep you entertained," Enjolras smiled, "The sooner your fever goes down the better; I don't think I could survive spending the rest of the holiday with just Marius..."

"I should probably go and apologise to Cosette for making her ill..." Éponine said, remembering what Enjolras wrote in his note.

"Or... we could stay in bed, ask one the maids to bring us our supper up here so that we don't have to face Marius and we can have some alone time..." Enjolras kissed a ticklish spot on Éponine's neck and she giggled, pushing him away.

"In case you'd forgotten, monsieur, I am sick," she said, "Unless this alone time involves anything other than you reading and singing to me as I drift in and out of consciousness as and when I please..." she smirked at the look of pretend-shock on his face.

"Why, Éponine," he said, "I wouldn't even think to suggest that our alone time would consist of anything else." Éponine raised her eyes brows but smiled, kissing him.

"Then I would very much like for us to spend some alone time together, monsieur."

Enjolras left Éponine to look through the vast range of books they had brought with them (because, really, between the two of them, they were bound to get through at least ten books in the time they spent in Marius and Cosette's company). He went downstairs, asking the first maid he came to if she could arrange for their dinner to be brought up to them (he could just imagine Marius' face when he turned up for supper alone. Marius would, after all, find it far too inappropriate to eat in the bedroom to accompany his sick wife). For once, Enjolras was glad that he hadn't bound himself by the strict bourgeoisie concepts that Marius and Cosette seemed to live by. He thought them unnecessary and really quite silly.

He climbed the stairs two at a time, walking down a short corridor to reach his and Éponine's room. The door was slightly ajar, just how he'd left it, and he could hear Éponine humming to herself from inside. He stood there for a moment as the humming changed to a quiet singing, appreciating the sound of Éponine's voice, before pushing the door open.

"You should sing more often," he commenting, smirking as Éponine practically jumped out of her skin.

"Apollo," she snapped shakily, "That scared the life out of me!" she moved back to the bed, placing a pile of books on the bedside table. She slipped under the covers and opened a book on her lap.

"My apologies, Athena," he said, climbing onto the bed next to her. "You have a beautiful voice."

Éponine blushed, "So do you," she told him, "Now, read to me, pretty please." She pushed the book towards him, taking a hold of his jacket and tugging on the sleeve, prompting him to move closer. He wrapped his arm around her and she curled herself (and the blankets on the bed) into his embrace.

This was how a maid found them just under an hour later. She smiled awkwardly as she came in after hesitantly knocking on the door. Enjolras and Éponine both smiled at her.

"Merci, madam," Enjolras said as she placed their dinner on the desk. She nodded in acknowledgment of his thanks, before leaving the room.

"I could get used to this," Éponine said quietly, "Being waited on hand and foot..."

"I shall have to start calling you Cosette," Enjolras muttered. Éponine hit him playfully.

"Cosette isn't that bad!" Éponine protested, "She has a mind of her own you know. And she is definitely capable of being her own person."

"Of course," Enjolras said quietly, the tone of his voice stating that he didn't quite believe his fiancée.

"Stop being mean," Éponine reprimanded, climbing out of bed to get herself some food, "She is my best friend. I  _know_  her, Enjolras. She is a lot cleverer and a lot more thoughtful than she may seem at first. Unlike some of our friends, she actually engages her brain before she opens her mouth to speak."

Enjolras smiled, "You look ever so pretty when you're annoyed."

"Don't change the subject!" Éponine said, "You and Cosette need to spend more time together, I think. Once you've gotten to know her  _properly_  you may be a bit nicer about her."

"You are definitely still sick," he noted, "You've protested twice against me on one subject. You'd normally give up after the first try."

"I don't 'give up'," Éponine said frowning, "I 'give in'. There's a difference."

"Are you sure?" Enjolras asked amusedly.

"Yes," she said, climbing back on the bed next to him with two plates of food, giving one to Enjolras and keeping the other for herself, "There is, after all, no point in wasting my time arguing a pointless topic with a man who refuses to listen to reason."

"Oh, so  _you're_ the voice of reason?" he said chuckling, "Forgive me if I don't believe you straight away. You  _did_ , after all, have a thing for Marius..." Éponine scowled, nibbling at a piece of chicken.

"I'll accept your logic," she said after a moment, "But I still don't entirely agree with you."

"I can deal with that," Enjolras agreed.

They ate their dinner, quietly conversing about anything and everything.

"I can't wait to go home," Éponine said, "I mean, I love being away and everything, and I know we needed a break but..."

"You miss the twins," Enjolras smiled, "So you keep saying."

"Well, don't you?" Éponine demanded, "It just feels... wrong. That our children are staying with someone else because we couldn't manage it ourselves."

"I know," Enjolras sighed, "I feel the same. But we  _did_  need a break, Athena. We never got any work done, we were walking around half asleep..." he shrugged, "Sometimes you just need to get away."

"I suppose... we're not  _totally_  abandoning them, are we?" Éponine asked, "We are seeing them after all."

"We're not abandoning them," Enjolras said, taking her hand in his, "But yes, we are seeing them. Though if we miss their first words, or their first steps, then I shall be irrevocably annoyed..."

"As will I," Éponine murmured, "And if Courf and Gavroche have been trying to get them to say anything other than 'Mama' or 'Papa', then so help me, I will kick their backsides..."

Enjolras and Éponine managed to eat all of the food brought up to them between them, with Éponine eating her fair share as opposed to Enjolras eating most of it, and the revolutionary leader was happy that his fiancée finally seemed to be feeling better.

* * *

The next morning threw that idea out of the window. Éponine refused to get out of bed, and her fever still hadn't broken. Enjolras was getting increasingly worried; yes, Éponine had had fevers before. But they had never stayed for longer than two days. They were now on day three, and Éponine was grumpy as ever.

"Just leave me alone," she grumbled, laying her head under the pillow to try and drain out Enjolras' babbling about how she had never been ill for longer than two days, "I'm tired and I have a headache and I just want to sleep."

"I'm being insensitive aren't I?" he asked frowning as he sat on the edge of the bed next to her, running his fingers through what hair was visible from under the pillow.

"Maybe a little overbearing," Éponine mumbled into the mattress, "But not insensitive."

"Well, that's something I suppose," Enjolras sighed, "I'm going to go and see Marius, ask about Cosette. Remember your promise."

"What promise?" Éponine questioned, lifting her head, causing the pillow to topple to the side.

"Well, that's reassuring..." Enjolras muttered, "The one where you promise not to die." He clarified, kissing her forehead as a goodbye.

"I promised, didn't I?" Éponine said, "And I don't break promises." Enjolras smiled, before leaving the room, shutting the door softly behind him.

When he reached the dining room, Marius looked up from the letter he was reading, a look of annoyance on his face.

"Thank you very much for leaving me to eat dinner alone last night," he said.

"My pleasure," Enjolras smirked, "I didn't want to leave Éponine alone. She was feeling a bit better, and we wanted to make the most of it."

"Then where is she?" Marius questioned, noticing his friend's absence for the first time.

"I said she  _was_  feeling better," Enjolras said, frowning, "Whatever illness she's managed to pick up has managed to come back with a vengeance overnight. How's Cosette, by the way?"

"Ridiculously high fever, refuses to get out of bed, won't eat anything..." Marius sighed worriedly.

"You could just as well be describing 'Ponine," Enjolras told him, smiling slightly. Marius copied his friend's expression before becoming serious again.

"Why is it that both of them had to become ill when it's a three hours ride to find the nearest doctor?" Marius said exasperatedly.

"Yes, it's ever so inconvenient, isn't it?" Enjolras said sarcastically, rolling his eyes, "It's not like they can help it, Marius. Besides, Joly will be here in a few hours. I'm sure he'll manage to work out what's wrong with them."

"I sincerely hope so," Marius said, "I think it's a thing that all women are grumpy when they're ill. Cosette threw a pillow at me this morning." Enjolras snorted.

"That's nothing," he said, "Éponine threw her fist at me the night before last. You wait until Cosette has a fever-induced nightmare;  _then_  you can come and moan to me about things being thrown at you."

* * *

Courfeyrac, Joly and Gavroche arrived with the twins at one o'clock, all three of them looking dishevelled and just a little bit exhausted, Courf carrying a screaming Evette in his arms and Joly holding a marginally quieter Elyse.

Enjolras met them at the door, and he didn't even get the chance to hold his arms out before Evette was being forced on him.

"Four hours... two babies... carriage... never again..." Courf muttered, pushing past Enjolras into the house. Gavroche followed him, for once actually quiet. Joly grinned.

"They're a little bit tired," he explained as Enjolras led the way into the house, smiling happily at the baby in his arms who had fallen silent the second she had been passed to her father, but frowning as he saw the limp in his step, "Why are you limping?" 

Enjolras rolled his eyes at his friend's concern, "I fell off a horse, thanks to Marius," he replied, "It's just a sprain, Joly."

Having known the man for too long to argue, Joly let the topic drop but frowned disapprovingly, "So, where's Éponine?"

"Ill," Enjolras said, his face falling slightly, "Fever, headache, grumpiness, she had a cough yesterday..."

"Great timing!" Joly muttered sarcastically, "Do you want me to..."

"Please," Enjolras butted in before Joly could finish his sentence, shifting Evette in his arms so that he could carry her in one arm and Elyse in the other. Joly smiled, nodding, "It's up the stairs, to the right and it's the only door down that corridor."

As Joly went off to find Éponine, Enjolras followed the way Courf had gone, finding him and Gavroche in the living room with Marius, who stood up and took Evette from Enjolras when he reached the sofa he was sitting on. Enjolras sat in the available armchair, happy to spend some time with his daughter again.

"Look at his face," Courfeyrac said, not quiet enough for him to be even trying to keep what he was saying a secret, "It's like she's just been born all over again."

"How would you know?" Enjolras asked defensively, "You weren't there!"

"My point is that you've only been gone three days!" Courf exclaimed, "What are you going to be like when they start school? Or get married?!"

"I'd rather not think about it," Enjolras muttered, "Not yet anyway."

"Éponine still in bed?" Marius asked. Enjolras nodded, not saying a word as he gazed joyfully at the child in his arms; he hadn't realised just how much he had missed the twins until he felt the familiar feeling of happiness when one of them was in his arms.

"Bed?!" Gavroche made a face, "She's a bit lazy, isn't she?"

"She's sick, Gavroche," Enjolras told him, smirking slightly at his assumption, "She refused to get up. Joly's currently making sure that she hasn't caught the plague or whatever other bizarre condition that's probably running through his head right now."

"You know, one day he's going to get a serious diagnosis spot on, and none of us are going to believe him," Courfeyrac chuckled. Enjolras snorted amusedly, whilst Marius laughed quietly.

"That'll be an interesting day, that's for sure." Marius agreed.

"I don't suppose you happened to bring the twins' crib, did you?" Enjolras asked, a thought striking him.

Courf's eyes narrowed, "Why?" he asked suspiciously.

Enjolras noted the look on his friend's face and sighed, "You know why," he stated, "And I don't care what you say, I know you've got it and I know the same thought occurred to you. She'll murder us if you haven't brought it."

"Well," Courfeyrac shrugged, "The thought may have occurred to Combeferre..." Enjolras smirked.

"I'm glad at least one of the Amis has some common sense."

"I'm not saying it's a good idea!" Courfeyrac protested, "And Combeferre was completely against it. But we know Éponine, so... it's in the carriage."

Marius and Gavroche both looked utterly lost, looking between Enjolras and Courfeyrac as if expecting to find an answer from their facial expressions.

"Care to explain?" Marius questioned. Enjolras smirked, taking Elyse from Marius' arms as he went to walk upstairs to take the twins to Éponine.

"The twins are staying for the remainder of the holiday."

* * *

Joly had found Éponine easy enough, but actually finding out what was wrong with her was a totally different matter. Éponine was certainly doing her best to be a difficult patient.

"I just want to go back to sleep, Joly!" she groaned, pulling the bedcovers up over her head.

"And what if you've got pneumonia?" Joly question exasperatedly, pulling the covers away yet again, "Or you've got the plague?!"

"I haven't got the plague!" Éponine said angrily, "Now go away!" she pulled the covers back forcefully, burying her head into her pillow as if trying to block the man out.

"Not until I'm convinced that you're not dying." Joly said stubbornly, Éponine sat up, the covers falling away from her as she did so.

"You... are mean." She grumbled. Joly grinned.

"I try my best."

By the time Enjolras reached the bedroom five minutes later, Joly was convinced that Éponine was not, in fact, dying.

"Just the flu," Joly said smiling as Enjolras poked his head around the door, "Bad flu, admittedly, but you're not dying. Your fever isn't dangerously high... not yet anyway. Just keep an eye on it and get some rest." Éponine barely stopped herself from reminding him of the fact that she had been trying to do just that when he burst in and interrupted her.

"So she's not going to infect us all and cause an epidemic then?" Enjolras questioned jokily. Joly shook his head wearily, turning to frown at Éponine.

"What have you done to him?" he asked, the seriousness in his voice almost convincing, "He never used to make jokes like that. He never even used to  _laugh_. I think you've broken him." Enjolras frowned from the doorway, "Oh, that's better!" Joly exclaimed, noting his expression, "You do a very good impression of your former self, Enjolras!"

"Yes, yes, you're quite hilarious, Joly," Enjolras said dryly, pushing the door open and entering with the twins in his arms. Éponine visibly brightened up, and she immediately reached out her arms for one of the babies.

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you," she murmured to Elyse once she was settled in her arms, Enjolras sitting on the bed next to her.

"I think  _I_  have an idea," Enjolras offered, "You've been going on about how much you've missed them from the moment we left our flat..."

"Shhh, you," Éponine scolded, nudging him.

"I'll be downstairs then," Joly smiled.

"Oh, Joly," Enjolras called after him as he left the room. Joly poked his head around the door, "Cosette's ill too. Marius would be annoyed at me if I didn't tell you." Joly nodded.

"I'll go and see her." He promised, before leaving the two alone.

After a few minutes of silence, both Enjolras and Éponine enjoying the moment they were spending with their children, Éponine spoke up, as Enjolras had predicted she would, "Do you think... no. No, that would defeat the entire idea. Never mind."

"Go on," Enjolras prompted, "Nothing's impossible."

"I could come up with a very good counterargument," Éponine muttered, "But... do you think, maybe... do you think the twins could stay here? I know we're supposed to be having a break away, and that I'm ill and having them around will probably just put more pressure on both of us, but it just seems wrong to send them back and-"

She was cut off by Enjolras' lips connecting with hers.

"Yes." He said simply.

"They can stay?" Éponine asked, sounding shocked. Enjolras chuckled.

"How can I say no?" he asked rhetorically, "I've missed them as much as you, and that's saying something. They're supposed to be with us, not with my parents, or the Amis. We didn't really need a holiday anyway, did we?"

"Not at all," Éponine agreed, sitting Elyse up on her lap and bouncing her gently, smiling as she giggled. Evette, facing her mother and sister in her father's arms, reached out, her hands making a grabbing motion.

"I think someone wants to go to Mama," Enjolras said quietly, passing Evette to Éponine. His fiancée obliged, taking Evette from him without a second thought as he took Elyse.

"We're really not very good at relaxing, are we?" Éponine muttered, "The opportunity to get away from screaming babies for two weeks, and what do we do? We steal them back the first chance we get."

"I'd like to think that that is us being good parents," Enjolras said, "Besides, they've barely made a sound since they got here, which is the complete opposite to what they've been doing for the last three days according to Courfeyrac."

Éponine sighed, "At least we haven't missed their first words... have we?" they both looked to the babies in front of them, waiting for one to start spouting some speech that they've been taught by one of the Amis in their three day absence.

Unsurprisingly, nothing of the sort happened, and the twins just sat on their parents' laps, babbling in baby-talk to no one in particular.

* * *

Courfeyrac and Joly left that evening with Gavroche, the former of the three considerably worked up.

"I hope you realise that I'll be receiving a lecture from Combeferre for letting you keep the twins here, don't you?" Courfeyrac snapped, "I don't care how calm and collected he normally is; he was  _terrifying_ when he told us to do this as a last resort."

"Are you joking?" Enjolras scoffed, "An Éponine who wants her babies back and will do anything and everything to make it happen, despite being ill? Consider this, Courfeyrac: which of the two is more terrifying?" The other man faltered for a second before scowling.

"I'll accept your point," he grumbled, "But you owe me for having to face 'Ferre's wrath."

"I'll stand up to Combeferre, Courf," Gavroche said boldly, "Just you wait and see!" Courfeyrac chuckled.

"Thank you, mon ami," he said, "But I don't think a little thing like you is going to scare Combeferre when he's determined. And it  _definitely_   won't sway him when he's so intent on playing mother hen." Gavroche frowned.

"I'm not little!" he insisted, crossing his arms stubbornly, "I'm eleven! The  _twins_  are little, not me!" Courfeyrac laughed again.

"Whatever you say, mon petit," he said, ruffling Gavroche's hair fondly, causing the boy to scrunch his face up disapprovingly.

"We'll see you soon, Enjolras," Joly said hurriedly before Gavroche could get even more frustrated with his friend, "Try to enjoy your holiday. And tell Éponine not to get too worked up about anything until she's feeling better."

"Enjoy your journey back," Enjolras smirked, sending a pointed glance in Gavroche and Courfeyrac's direction, the boy indefinitely ignoring his older friend, who was doing the same in return.

"Oh, I'm sure it'll be positively delightful," Joly muttered, climbing into the carriage with a roll of his eyes.

* * *

Just before dinner, Éponine's fever finally broke, lifting a weight from Enjolras' shoulders. Éponine smirked as she walked down the stairs with him (after prodding and poking him constantly for half an hour until he agreed to let her join him and Marius at the table to eat). She held Evette in her arms, who was reaching out, trying to grab hold of her sister's foot as Elyse kicked her legs happily in Enjolras' arms.

"You worry too much," she told him, seeing the fond yet relieved smile on his face, "I think this is the first time since we arrived that you haven't had that concerned look in your eyes." Enjolras' smile widened.

"I'm allowed to worry," he replied, "You're my fiancée; worrying about you is part of the engagement rules." Éponine rolled her eyes, still smiling.

"I promised that I wouldn't die, didn't I?" she asked rhetorically, "You should have more faith in me, Apollo!" Enjolras didn't respond, moving the conversation on.

"At least you can enjoy our holiday now," he said, "Even if it's turned into a family stay as opposed to just the two of us."

"I think it's better this way," Éponine said after considering for a moment.

Enjolras grinned, "So do I."

The four of them walked into the dining room, expecting to find Marius there, but being welcomed by an empty room. Éponine and Enjolras thought nothing of it as a maid walked out of the adjoining kitchen carrying a plate of bread in one hand and a selection of meats in the other.

When Marius finally joined them twenty minutes later, he smiled when he saw Éponine sat at the table.

"I'm glad you're feeling better, 'Ponine," he said, sitting down opposite her and Enjolras, "It hasn't been the same without you." Éponine smiled.

"You missed me then?" she asked, grinning at Marius' nod as he lifted a piece of meat onto his plate with a fork, "How's Cosette?"

"She's feeling better," he said, smiling warmly as he thought of his beloved, "She's almost back to normal, actually. Hopefully she'll be fine by tomorrow."

"The sooner the better, I say," Enjolras muttered, "I couldn't bare another horse ride..."

Marius laughed, "How's your ankle?" he questioned.

"It's swollen and bruised, thanks to you," Enjolras replied, "Never again shall I even attempt to ride a horse."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Enjolras," Marius teased. The revolutionary leader rolled his eyes, bouncing Elyse gently on his lap.

"Look," Éponine said, getting up from the table and rushing to the window, a smile on her face that lit up her eyes, "It's snowing again!"

Enjolras and Marius both joined her at the window, grinning when they saw the large snowflakes toppling to the ground in quick succession. The scene put the three in higher spirits for the rest of their dinner, and when the twins started grizzling to be taken to bed, Éponine and Enjolras walked up the stairs hand in hand.

"We should go out in the snow tomorrow," she said decisively, "A walk in the forest, just us two. Do you think one of the maids will mind looking after the twins?"

"You've only just recovered!" Enjolras protested, "Actually, you're not even completely better yet! I'm sure the snow will stick around for a few more days..."

Éponine frowned, "I am completely fine," she said firmly, "And if you won't walk with me, I'll go on my own!"

Enjolras groaned, "Joly told me to make sure you rested! Going out in the snow is not 'resting'! Besides, I have a damaged foot."

" _Please_ , Enjolras?" Éponine said pleadingly, "Only a little walk, I promise! I need to go outside... you  _know_  how I hate being cooped up inside all the time." Enjolras sighed.

"Fine, fine," he said, "But if you get sick again-"

"Then I'll fully expect you to nurse me back to health," Éponine said, smiling cheekily as she planted a kiss on his cheek. Enjolras rolled his eyes, grimacing.

"I sometimes wonder what on Earth I've gotten myself into with you, Éponine." He said wondrously. Éponine grinned.

"Says the man who built a barricade and shot at the National Guard," she mocked, "We're both bordering on insane when it comes to certain things. That's why we work."

"Is it really?" he questioned, smirking, "I thought it was because I saved your life..."

Éponine rolled her eyes, "Yes, yes, you're Apollo, my almighty hero and I owe you everything I have..." she said sarcastically, her eyes twinkling with humour. Enjolras chuckled.

"I do love you, Athena," he said, "Really I do."

"I should hope so too!" she said, "Because I love you as well. And that proves my point perfectly."

"And which point would that be?" Enjolras asked.

"We work." Éponine said simply.

* * *

The next day brought with it an early start for Enjolras and Éponine, the latter of whom being more than a little excited to go for her walk in the snow.

"Come  _on_ , Enjolras!" she said, nudging him as she got out of bed, "Look how much snow there is! And it's still coming down!" Enjolras looked up and out of the window sleepily, his observations confirming what Éponine had said.

"Can't we just cuddle in bed, where it's warm?" he asked, "It's freezing outside!" Éponine stood at the end of the bed, her arms crossed and a frown on her face.

"Enjolras, you said we could go!" she complained, "It's only going to be twenty minutes! Please?" her wide brown eyes were pleading, and Enjolras practically melted at the sight. He sighed.

"Alright," he said, getting out of bed, "If that's what you want to do, we'll go for a walk." Éponine hugged his tightly.

"Thank you!" she squealed before grabbing her dress from a chair and racing into the bathroom to get changed.

*. . .*

An hour later, after everyone had eaten breakfast and Éponine was sure that the twins were in safe hands, Enjolras, Éponine, Marius and Cosette (who was feeling remarkably better and was more than a little eager to get out of the house) set off on a walk in the woods, all of them wrapped up warm in coats, scarves and gloves.

"Everything looks so beautiful in the snow," Cosette commented, smiling, "It's incredible how it makes everything look entirely different."

The four conversed happily as they walked, enjoying each other's company. Enjolras found his breath catching in his throat as Éponine giggled, her laugh enticing him in a way it hadn't for far too long. What with the struggles of being first-time parents of twins, and then Éponine being ill, it had been a while since he had heard her laugh properly. It made him happy to hear it again.

After twenty minutes, Cosette had started shivering, and so they all decided to turn back, starting their walk back to the house. Éponine and Enjolras walked in front, with Marius and Cosette a few feet behind. Éponine's gloved hand clasped Enjolras' tightly, the two talking quietly, the only other sound being their boots crunching on the snow underfoot, with more flakes falling heavily even as they approached the house.

Suddenly, something hard exploded as it hit the back of Enjolras' head, and the man froze as his hand reached up instinctively to his now wet blond curls. He cringed as the cold snow fell down the back of his coat, freezing his back. He turned around slowly, throwing a murderous glare at Marius who looked mildly surprised. Cosette stood beside him, looking far too innocent.

"I suppose you think that's funny." Enjolras said. Marius shrugged.

"Don't ask me," he said, " _I_  didn't initiate the attack..." Enjolras eyes flicked to Cosette, who's innocent facade was hinted with a smug and triumphant smirk.

"Well, if you want to play it that way..." before he could even bend down to scoop up a ball of snow, Éponine had launched her projectile at her friend, the ball hitting Cosette's shoulder with an amount of force that Enjolras didn't know Éponine possessed.

"This means war." She said, grinning evilly.

The result was a full-on snowball fight between the two couples, each of them building forts from the snow around their feet and launching tightly compacted balls of ice at each other. Whilst Marius and Cosette were the ones who initiated the battle, it was Enjolras and Éponine who had the edge, being more determined, and equally as competitive as the other was.

By the time the four had exhausted both themselves and the game, they were soaked through, freezing cold and happier than they could remember being.

"That was the most fun I've had in ages!" Enjolras laughed as they entered the house and Cosette asked a passing maid to make them hot chocolate. The maid was rather shocked by their appearance, and hurried off to do as Cosette asked.

"You need to have fun more often, Enjolras," Marius told him, "You're far too serious all the time."

"He better than he used to be," Éponine said, sticking up for her fiancé, "At least he  _smiles_  more often now. He even makes jokes! He even laughs, occasionally." Marius chuckled.

"There's a difference between that, and finding the time to behave like a child," he said, "Growing up is optional. Sometimes it's beneficial for everyone to forget your age and just have fun."

* * *

When Enjolras and Éponine returned home a week and a half later, they were met by a disapproving Combeferre. They had immensely enjoyed their stay with Marius and Cosette, and having the twins there made it all the more special, despite the fact that the snow caused them to spend the majority of their time indoors.

"You were supposed to be having a break!" Combeferre complained the second they stepped out of their carriage, twins in their arms. Combeferre sighed as he was passed a sleeping Evette, leaving Enjolras free to pick up their bags as they walked up the two flights of stairs to their home.

"We  _did_  get a break!" Enjolras insisted as Éponine put the key in the lock and let them in.

"You were supposed to be having two weeks away without the pressure of having the twins with you!" Combeferre protested.

"Are you joking?" Éponine questioned, "I would have gone mad! Not to mention what I would have done to Enjolras..." even the revolutionary leader himself had the sense to look scared.

"I dread to think," Enjolras muttered, "Besides, Cosette and Marius have so many members of staff in that house, we barely had to pick the twins up once! In fact, if Éponine hadn't nearly growled at one of the maids, we probably wouldn't have even seen them!"

"They were trying to put the crib in a different room!" Éponine argued, "I'm not going to apologise for wanting my children near me at all times!"

"That sounds ever so relaxing..." Combeferre said sarcastically, "I hope you two realise that you've missed out on a chance to get away from the crying, and the screaming, and the responsibility..."

"Actually, they barely made a sound," Enjolras shrugged, "All week, they were good as gold. I think they've realised that having Mama and Papa isn't nearly as bad as staying with Papa's parents..." Combeferre smirked.

"You had a good time, at least?" he asked. Éponine nodded.

"It was amazing," she told him, "Thank you for setting it all up, 'Ferre."

"Not a problem, 'Ponine," he smiled as she hugged him, "Now, are you coming to the Musain? I understand that Bahorel has challenged Grantaire to some kind of arm wrestle, and Grantaire's entire alcohol stash is at stake..."

Enjolras and Éponine glanced at each other, both smiling slightly.

"We wouldn't miss it for the world," Éponine told their friend as he led the way towards the Musain. Keeping the twins in their arms (as they should be and would remain until either Enjolras or Éponine thought it would be safe, for them and the people around them, to do otherwise), Éponine and Enjolras followed Combeferre, both thinking the same thing:

There's no place like home.


	31. It's a Good Life We're Living

**What if Enjolras and Éponine came up with an amazing plan?**

Enjolras and Éponine were finally starting to appreciate the joys of being parents. The twins were growing every day, and since their disastrous attempt at a holiday, they had found that being parents was becoming easier by the day.

It was around when the twins turned eight months old when Éponine started to realise how quickly time was passing. To both her and Enjolras, their children were still babies, but they were progressing more and more as the days passed. Éponine found herself wondering if she would remember these moments in the years to come, when her little girls weren't so little anymore.

So she came up with a plan, to help herself, Enjolras, the Amis and the twins, remember the precious moments in later life.

* * *

Sitting Up and Picking Up

It started with a piece of parchment and a pencil. They were already there from when Enjolras had been working on a report for the government the night before, and he had left early that morning, waking her despite trying not to.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" he asked worriedly, "It doesn't feel right, leaving you on your own with the twins. I can cancel..."

"You've done it before," Éponine reasoned, "And they've been fine for the last few weeks, Enjolras. Go to your meeting, and get justice for the people. France comes first, remember." He smiled slightly, kissing her cheek.

"I'll be back this afternoon," he promised, kissing both of the twins lightly on the forehead on his way out. Éponine smiled at him, before pulling the covers back over her and trying to sleep for another hour before the twins woke up demanding breakfast.

A few hours later found her at the dining table, watching as the twins lay on their patchwork quilt on the floor. They often didn't do much, but they enjoyed rolling around, and Éponine enjoyed watching them.

She subconsciously picked up the pencil, fiddling with it as she let her mind drift; so much had changed, not just since the twins were born, but since the barricades had arisen almost two years ago. She had certainly changed; she had almost lost her hard attitude entirely, though her feistiness and hot temper remained. She didn't suffer from nightmares as often (though they were certainly a lot worse than they used to be when she did have them) and she was generally more relaxed and calm.

Enjolras had gone from being an apparently uncaring revolutionary leader to being a loving father and fiancé, still passionate for his cause but not needing to use violence to achieve it. He found time to spend with his family and friends, which was a massive change from the days when he would live and breathe his cause.

And the twins, arguably making the biggest difference of anything that had happened, were right in the centre of Éponine and Enjolras' lives.

Éponine often spoke to Joly and Combeferre (both of whom had made it their business to become experts on babies and their first few years of life) about how the twins should be progressing and when.

"Every baby is different, 'Ponine," Combeferre had chuckled the first time she had asked, "It's difficult to actually know when they'll hit any milestones." He had, nonetheless, written her a list of a baby's firsts and when they should achieve them.

Éponine had noticed the twins first rolling over at around two months; one thing checked off of Combeferre's list. But, since then, the twins seemed to show little activity, other than growing, screaming and constantly demanding food.

So when Elyse caught Éponine's attention with her babbling noises, having pulled herself into a sitting position with the help of a coffee table leg, and had picked up a bookmark that had been lying on the ground under the table, Éponine was suitably surprised.

Éponine glanced at the list, pinned to a wall in the kitchen area and found 'sitting up' and 'picking up' one on top of the other written in Combeferre's flawless penmanship. Éponine sat, irrevocably happy and just a little bit shocked, watching as Elyse waved her arm up and down with the bookmark still in her grasp, babbling proudly at her achievement.

Not believing that Enjolras was missing the moment, Éponine pulled the parchment on the table towards her, quickly sketching the scene with as much accuracy as she could at that moment in time. She had always been quite a good artist, but it was only since she'd lived and worked with Enjolras that she'd had time to practice.

*. . .*

She had shown Enjolras the picture the second he had walked through the door, insisting that he really should have been there and that it was an amazing feat. He had grinned madly and returned her hug as she embraced him excitedly, picking Elyse up from where she was still on the quilt, telling her that she really was a very clever little girl.

Evette, apparently jealous of all the attention her sister was getting, copied what Elyse had done earlier that day, before shuffling over to Éponine and grabbing hold of the fabric of her dress, her eyes wide. Éponine, for the second time that day, was both shocked and delighted, and ensured that the scene was fully imprinted in her mind so that she could draw it later before picking Evette up and kissing her cheek, telling her that she was also a very clever girl.

* * *

First Nickname

With both of their parents awarded nicknames by the Amis, it was only a matter of time before Evette and Elyse also acquired them.

In fact, Grantaire interrupted a meeting that was supposed to be an official 'Les Amis de l'ABC' meeting (in which the Amis were actually supposed to discuss and try to solve an issue that was plaguing France) to propose a discussion on the twins' nicknames. Enjolras, for one, was certainly not impressed by Grantaire's willingness to interrupt such an important meeting, nor with his insistency to re-name his daughters.

"They have been christened Evette and Elyse, Grantaire," he protested, "Why do they need nicknames when the names they have been given are perfectly fine?!"

"Because it's a non-optional social convention." Grantaire replied stubbornly.

Enjolras sighed, "I hope you realise that I'm well within my rights to fire you for being off-task during work hours?"

Grantaire scoffed indifferently, "You think I care about having a job or not?" he laughed, "In case you've forgotten, Apollo, I have a degree."

"You  _barely_  have a degree," Enjolras corrected him, "You were drunk for most of your lectures and you had a hangover for your final exam. Honestly, it's a wonder you got a degree at all. Now, can we please get back to business?"

"Come  _on_ , Apollo!" Grantaire groaned, "We can reschedule until tomorrow at least. It's a Monday evening, and, frankly, I'm still suffering from our lunch meeting. Can't we just have one night?!" Enjolras looked around at the other Amis, all of whom were looking at him with pleading eyes.

He sighed and, knowing that the person that he had been two years ago would never have done such a thing, sat down reluctantly, "One night," he said firmly, "And I'm expecting you all to be completely focused when we come back to the topic tomorrow evening. And I swear to God, if any one of you is late, I will make it my business to acquire an entire new set of weapons, seeing as Courfeyrac still has mine in his possession-"

"I've said it before and I'll say it again, Enjolras, I never said that they were in my possession," Courfeyrac grinned at the leader who now glared at him.

"As I was saying, anyone who turns up late will feel the wrath of my new weapons collection."

Everyone fell silent for a moment before Grantaire once again took control of the meeting, "So, nicknames," he said, a smile breaking across his face, "Any suggestions?"

*. . .*

Hours later, Enjolras had returned home, where Éponine had been spending the evening with Cosette as opposed to joining him at the meeting.

"I refuse to miss any precious moments," she had said firmly, "And I'm not sure the twins will stay quiet if they have to sit through an entire meeting surrounded by the Amis without the attention focused on them. You go, and catch me up later. I'm going to stay at home with my feet up, most probably listening to Cosette babble about the perfect wedding."

Enjolras smiled at the memory, pushing the door to their flat open to find Éponine dozing on the sofa. He woke her by kissing her cheek softly and she stretched, frowning slightly.

"Why did you wake me?" she asked grumpily, "I was having such a nice sleep..."

"You'll hurt your back sleeping on the sofa," he told her, smiling slightly, "Besides, I need you to approve the nicknames that the Amis have picked out for the twins..." Éponine chuckled.

"I'm surprised they've waited so long!" she exclaimed, "The twins are eight and a half months old!"

Enjolras frowned, "I honestly don't see what's wrong with calling them 'Evette' and 'Elyse'," he murmured.

"It gets boring," Éponine shrugged, "Goodness knows, it's boring to constantly be called 'Éponine'. I prefer to have a variety of names."

"Oh do you now, my darling Athena?" Enjolras said, smirking as he sat down next to her on the sofa.

"Yes I do, my dearest Apollo," she replied, kissing him lightly on the lips, "Now, what names am I approving?"

"Evette is to become 'Evie'," Enjolras started, "I thought it was a little informal-"

"Isn't that the idea of nicknames?" Éponine interrupted him, her eyebrows raised. Enjolras rolled his eyes.

"That's beside the point," he protested, hurrying on before Éponine could intervene with any more comments, "And Elyse is 'Ellie' or 'Elle', depending on who's talking." Éponine smiled.

"I like them," she said, nodding approvingly, "The Amis chose well."

"Oh, I'm not finished," Enjolras said, "Grantaire has insisted that as soon as he is certain of their personalities, they will also have names of Greek gods... I'd be lying if I said I wasn't dreading it."

Éponine chuckled, "If you dislike being called Apollo so much, then why don't you tell people to stop?" she asked. Enjolras rolled his eyes.

"I tried that for years," he told her, "It never worked. Besides, I don't  _dislike_  it, per se... not when you say it at least." Éponine smiled.

"Good," she stated, "Because I wasn't planning on stopping calling you it." He laughed.

"I would never have expected you to."

*. . .*

Éponine was rather disappointed that the twins' gaining of nicknames was something that she couldn't draw. She had long since perfected her drawing of Elyse sitting up for the first time, and had sketched Evette doing the same and tugging on her dress, and perfected that one too. She had even gone so far as to ask Grantaire to add colour to them (he had been more than willing and Éponine didn't trust herself to add colour without ruining the drawing that had taken her so long).

So, Enjolras, not wanting his fiancée to be downhearted, suggested an alternative.

"Write about it?" Éponine asked sceptically, "What do you mean 'write about it'?"

"Almost like a diary," he clarified, "We could write little paragraphs on the things that you can't draw." Éponine frowned.

"I'm making that your job," she said, kissing him lightly, "You're better at wording things than I am." She winked at him before busying herself with writing up the report Enjolras had asked her to do (she would undoubtedly ask him for help on it later on; there were some perks to your fiancé also being your employer...).

*. . .*

The next day, just as Éponine was finishing her report from the night before, pushing the parchment away with a tired groan, Enjolras replaced it with another piece of parchment.

"I'm not writing anything else." Éponine said defiantly. Enjolras smiled slightly.

"Read it," he told her, "I want your opinion." Looking at him confusedly, she picked up the parchment and began to read.

_On Monday the 16th April 1834, Evette and Elyse were officially given their first nicknames. Papa was adamant that their christened names were more than enough, but Uncle Grantaire insisted that it was a 'non-optional social convention'._

_Evette Azelma Jaqueline DuFay became 'Evie'._

_Elyse Cosette DuFay became 'Ellie' to all of the Amis except Courfeyrac, who insisted that 'Elle' reflected her resilient personality more than 'Ellie'._

_Papa will continue to call his daughters by their given names until a time when he decides that they no longer fit. Mama likes the nicknames, so she will undoubtedly use them whenever possible._

Éponine smiled reading the paragraph, "It's perfect," she stated, "But I have one question: why Papa? And Mama? And Uncle Grantaire?"

"I thought it might make more sense to the twins if they ever decided to read them in the future," Enjolras shrugged, "I'd like to be able to tell them this story one day." Éponine smiled.

"I was right," she said smugly.

"Regarding...?" Enjolras prompted.

"I always said you'd be a perfect father."

* * *

Crawling

Crawling was, in Éponine's eyes, one of the most important milestones that the twins would hit within their first year. She was, however, completely caught offguard when the event actually occurred, partly because it happened to be Evette catching everyone's attention as she wandered across the table, and partly because it happened to be in the Musain one lunchtime when everyone was around.

With the rest of the Amis sat at the other end of a long table, Enjolras and Éponine were sat at the other in a lunchtime meeting with Marius and Grantaire regarding an issue that the more sceptical members of the French government hadn't hesitated to point out about Enjolras' beloved revolution.

"If they don't want to be involved with the project to make France a better and fairer place, then why don't they just focus on other things?!" Éponine grumbled, sitting Evette on the edge of the table as the little girl waved her arms around. They were sat at a table at the end of a line of many, with the other Amis sat further up so as not to interrupt their private meeting.

The twins were looking more and more like their parents every day; their hair was growing reasonably quickly, and was wavy and chestnut brown, a mixture of their parents' hair colours. It was clear that Evette had her mother's smile, whilst Elyse had very nearly mastered Enjolras' triumphant smirk after copying her father for weeks.

"It's not that simple, 'Ponine," Marius reasoned, "Besides, I'm not sure Enjolras would allow anyone to leave his cause, whether they got into it voluntarily or not."

"You make me sound like such a controlling person, Pontmercy," Enjolras said, although his triumphant smirk was in place yet again. Grantaire rolled his eyes.

"The point is that they don't see where it's going," he said, a half-drunk bottle of wine on the table beside him, "Two years on, and little has changed."

"I disagree," Éponine said immediately, "Attitudes across the country have changed dramatically. You should see the amount of bourgeois people giving to the poor now compared to how many did before the barricades. I should know, I was one begging for a few sous a lot of the time..." the last bit was muttered, but all three men heard, and it inadvertently made them feel a little uncomfortable. They were all more than aware of where Éponine had come from, and none of them could forget whom she was related to, but it occasionally slipped their minds due to the fact that she had changed so much in the time since the battle on the barricades took place.

"Attitudes  _have_  changed," Marius agreed, "But I can see where Grantaire is coming from. There needs to be more physical evidence."

"Have any of your government officials actually been to the slums?" Éponine questioned Enjolras. He frowned for a moment before shaking his head.

"Not that I'm aware of," he said, "I mean, some of them pass them every day on their way to work, but I doubt they'll get a very good view form their carriage windows."

"Then I think we've found our next course of action," Éponine said decisively, looking around at the boys, waiting for one of them to disagree. When none of them did, she smiled triumphantly, "Excellent. Meeting adjourned?" Enjolras nodded, smiling at his fiancée.

Evette started to wriggle in Éponine's arms, twisting her head around to find her sister, who was sitting at the other end of the table on Combeferre's lap. She started whining, so Éponine released her, being sure to keep a close eye on her movements so that she didn't roll of the table. Evette did not intend to do anything of the sort, as she managed to roll herself over and push up onto all fours before crawling with a ridiculous amount of speed up the table before any of the Amis could fully comprehend what was happening.

Éponine practically throttled Grantaire whilst begging for some parchment and a pencil which she had forgotten to pack (just her luck, of course). He practically threw the materials at her to avoid being strangled to death with his own cravat.

Éponine barely had time to sketch the basic aspects of the scene before Evette was once again in a sitting position in front of Combeferre and Elyse, who was giggling and clapping her hands clumsily at her sister's apparent act of hilarity.

*. . .*

It was about a fortnight later when Elyse finally managed to get the hang of crawling. Evette had been all over the place, and Éponine and Enjolras were starting to learn that a crawling baby really could reach quite a lot, and so had resulted to putting everything on the dining table as opposed to on the small table by the sofa. It was also not unusual to find the floor of Éponine and Enjolras' flat covered with blankets, which was Éponine's way of trying to avoid any accidents involving Evette's head and the wooden floorboards.

Elyse, when it finally got to the point where she worked out how to move her hands and knees in a crawling-like motion, decided to disregard the blankets all together.

Éponine left Enjolras sitting at the dining table reading a book, the twins on a blanket barely three feet away, going through to the bedroom for all of a minute. When she returned, she found Evette crawling underneath the small table by the sofa, and Elyse apparently nowhere to be seen.

"Erm, Enjolras..." Éponine said quietly, "Would you like to explain why there is a rather large moving bump under that moving blanket?" Enjolras had been so engrossed in his book that he hadn't realised that Elyse had manoeuvred her way under a blanket and had started crawling around the room with the blanket still on top of her.

As Elyse's little head popped out from the edge of the blanket, Éponine found herself drawing the adorable scene as Enjolras watched on, smiling slightly.

"You've barely stopped drawing these last few weeks," he noted, "I'm starting to think I'm losing you to a piece of parchment!" Éponine rolled her eyes at his comment, still sketching.

"I'll make it up to you," she promised, smiling slightly, "And it'll be worth it in a few years. You only get these moments once, Apollo."

* * *

Standing

When the twins first found themselves on their unsteady feet, Éponine was glad she had remembered to pack a pile of parchment and a couple of pencils in her bag along with everything she needed for the twins.

She had decided to take the twins to Cosette and Marius' house, where her best friend would undoubtedly start pestering her about plans for the wedding, but Éponine supposed that that was better than sitting around at home all day on her own. Marius and Enjolras, along with Grantaire, were going to their second annual meeting with the government, almost directly on the second anniversary of the barricades (though Éponine was glad that it hadn't landed on the anniversary; it was her and Enjolras' anniversary too after all).

She and Cosette were sitting in the living room, the twins sitting happily on the carpet playing with a teddy bear that had been so lovingly made by Musichetta before the twins were born.

"So I was thinking, for the wedding-"

"Stop right there, Cosette," Éponine said firmly, "The wedding is a while off yet. It definitely doesn't require any planning for at least another few weeks, and even then I will most likely postpone it for as long as possible. Honestly, how can you possibly find planning a wedding so interesting?"

"You know you love it too," Cosette said, sniffing, "It's the biggest day of your life, Éponine, and you should treat it accordingly!"

"It's one day, Cosette," Éponine reminded her, "One day of many that I plan on spending with Enjolras. I would much rather spend my time ensuring that my children are going to grow up in a safe and fair country than planning a single day for the sake of a piece of paper." Cosette huffed.

"Remind me again why you're my best friend?" she muttered, "We have absolutely nothing in common..." Éponine just chuckled.

"We're best friends because you love me." She said simply, "And I love you the same." She was about to change the topic when Elyse pulled the teddy bear out of Evette's grasp, causing the latter to scream loudly in protest.

Éponine sighed, "Elyse," she sat down on the floor next to the younger of her twins, "We don't snatch." Éponine had long since realised that the twins could understand quite a lot of what she said directly to them, as had Enjolras, who stated that 'it's never too soon to start implementing discipline'.

She gently prised the bear from Elyse's grasp, nodding to her daughter with a cheeky grin on her face, "Merci, mademoiselle," she said, kissing Elyse's head lightly. Elyse had such an adorable scowl on her face (Éponine refused to note that it looked scarily like Enjolras) that Éponine was desperate to draw it; sketching had become quite a hobby of hers, but she decided to sketch the scene later, as it surely wouldn't be too hard to replicate the details of Elyse's expression.

Her thoughts of sketching were interrupted by an excited squeal from Cosette, "Éponine!" Éponine turned her head to face her friend, but was redirected by Cosette's finger to see Evette pushing herself up onto her feet.

Without a second thought, Éponine launched herself at her bag, pulling out a piece of parchment and picking up a pencil that had fallen on the floor in her haste to get her desired materials. Even as she sketched the scene, Evette was wobbling, and fell flat on her face after just a few seconds, a rather confused look on her face.

Cosette began to babble about how amazing it was but Éponine 'shhh'-ed her into silence and she put the scene to paper. After a few minutes she was satisfied that she had enough detail to be going on with, and picked Evette up, wrapping her in a hug.

"Daddy's going to be very upset that you made him miss yet another moment, Evie," she murmured happily into the baby's ear.

Elyse apparently thought she could do better, crawling over to Cosette and sitting down in front of her, reaching her arms out to be picked up. Cosette set her on her feet, and let go slowly, watching Elyse's face light up as she steadied herself slightly. Éponine quickly sketched this scene also, and smiled slightly as Elyse fell back into a sitting position.

"I think she's going to be quite the strategist, you know," Cosette said thoughtfully, "Evie put the work into it, but Ellie actually came up with a plan." Éponine groaned.

"She gets more and more like Enjolras every day..."

* * *

First Steps

The twins took their first steps not long after they stood for the first time. For a week they were pulling themselves into standing positions using anything they could get a hold of (Enjolras was more than a little bit surprised when Elyse used his leg to set herself on her feet).

It was Elyse who took her first steps first, wobbling across Éponine and Enjolras' apartment with a determined look on her face. After almost a year of watching her parents walk around on their two feet, she had picked up  _some_  skills, at least. After reaching her arms out for Enjolras to set her on her feet (an act that was becoming more and more well-known in their household), she lifted her right foot forward and wobbled slightly before setting it down slightly in front of her.

Enjolras' eyes widened dramatically, "Éponine!" he called through the open door to the twins' nursery which, for now, had become something of an art room for Éponine to work on her sketches of the twins, "Bring something to draw on!" Elyse stood where she was, looking up at her father with a confused look on her face. Enjolras crouched down a few feet in front of her, holding his arms out, "Come on, Ellie," he said quietly (the nicknames the twins had been given were beginning to grow on him), "Come to Papa."

Éponine was by his side in an instant, "Did she walk yet?" she asked desperately. Evette was practically glaring at her sister from where she was sat on the same blanket.

"Only a tiny step," Enjolras murmured, "Come on, Ellie. Walk to Papa." Éponine sat with her pencil resting on the page, getting ready for when Elyse was in the perfect position to draw her as she took her first proper step.

Elyse was frowning at her parents; she really didn't understand what all the fuss was about. She decided, however, to take her first step anyway, as it was obviously what everyone was waiting for.

Éponine would be lying if she said that it didn't make her immensely proud to see her little girls meeting all of the milestones that they had been; as Elyse took her first steps towards Enjolras, Éponine's eyes blurred with tears of happiness as she struggled to draw the scene with impaired vision. True, Elyse only managed three steps before toppling forward and falling into Enjolras' grasp, but it was a momentous moment nonetheless.

Evette decided to walk her first steps for much more personal reasons; namely, because her teddy bear was on one side of the room, and she was on the other, and she very much wished to play with said teddy bear. After looking to the kitchen to see Éponine humming loudly as she baked biscuits (she had mastered them over the last few months, and was now far too smug (in Enjolras' opinion) when saying that she actually could cook), Evette decided that she might as well get her toy herself.

When Éponine turned around to see her little girl wobbling across the room, she practically dropped the tray of biscuits in her hands in shock. Honestly, she couldn't turn her back for five seconds without missing something!

Launching herself into action (she really couldn't believe that Enjolras was missing yet another memorable moment), she looked around desperately for a piece of parchment to draw on. Her eyes landed on the report that Enjolras had been working on that morning before he had gone to the government buildings for an emergency meeting about something that she really should be interested in, but really wasn't.

Grabbing the parchment and turning it over to the blank side, she sketched as much as she dared before catching Evette as she wobbled, stopping her falling onto the hard wooden floor. The little girl started screaming in protest, wriggling in her mother's arms as she reached for the teddy bear. Éponine laughed quietly, passing the bear to Evette.

* * *

First Birthday

Éponine and Enjolras were well within their rights to state that the last year had been more than eventful. As the twins' first birthday loomed, however, Éponine found herself despairing.

A year. A whole year had passed since the night that could have gone so differently. Had it not been for her midwife's experience and sheer skill, Éponine would not be sitting in the bedroom of her apartment, wondering where on earth the time had gone. She wouldn't be with Enjolras. She wouldn't have two beautiful daughters. She wouldn't feel happier than she had ever been.

Enjolras knocked on the doorframe, and Éponine suddenly remembered that she hadn't shut the door when she decided to drive herself insane in their bedroom.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Enjolras asked, sitting on the bed next to her and wrapping an arm around her waist. She wrapped her arms around him.

"About what?" she questioned, confused.

"About whatever you're worrying about," he clarified, "You've got your thinking face on. And you've been sitting on the bed in complete silence for almost ten minutes." Éponine chuckled quietly.

"I was just thinking that time passes fast," she explained, "The twins are going to one next Tuesday, Apollo... where did that year go? And the barricades... everyone's forgotten about that. Everything's just so different. I'm not sure if I like it." Enjolras rolled his eyes, smiling slightly.

"Of course, you're right," Enjolras stated, "You almost always are-"

" _Almost_  always?!" she said, feigning outrage, before smiling at him.

"But things change," Enjolras continued, "It makes the world work, which is lucky for us. We'd never have achieved half of what we had if no one was open to change. But that doesn't mean that all change is good, and it doesn't mean that all change is bad either. It's more... necessary." Éponine frowned.

"Why must you always say things I don't want to hear and still be right?!" she demanded. Enjolras laughed.

"Because, luckily for you, I'm  _not_  changing. You should know after two and a half years of living with me that I much prefer things to be straightforward and truthful."

"I would say that you're the image of a perfect citizen," Éponine started, standing up from the bed, "But you destroyed about thirty houses worth of furniture and shot at the National Guard to make a point."

"In the name of equality and justice!" Enjolras protested. Éponine laughed.

"You make it far too easy to wind you up!"

*. . .*

The following Tuesday, everyone met in the back room of the Musain, something they hadn't done in what felt like forever. They tended to just use the main cafe area for their more recent meetings, seeing as they no longer had to keep their plans to themselves; in many ways, they  _were_  the government now, after all.

All of the Amis had gathered there for the twins' birthday party (which would undoubtedly be more for the adults if the amount of alcohol Grantaire had turned up with was anything to go by). It was going to be a day for the twins, and only the twins (ideally).

When Éponine and Enjolras arrived, they made their way through to the back room, the twins in their arms, to find the Amis standing there waiting for them.

Combeferre and Cosette had been collaborating for days, planning the party. They believed that it was their duties as godmother and 'only sensible uncle' to set up an amazing first birthday.

"Do you like it?" Cosette asked, approaching the four of them. Éponine smiled.

"It's perfect," she assured her, then groaned.

"What is it?" Enjolras asked her, a frown crossing his face.

"I didn't bring anything to draw with!" she asked, her face falling slightly. Cosette sighed with relief.

"Thank goodness it's nothing serious," she muttered.

"Nothing serious?!" Éponine all but screeched at her best friend. Combeferre chuckled.

"Relax, Éponine," he said, "Grantaire's taking a turn to the do the drawing. Besides, the twins will never have any pictures of them with you if you do all of the sketches." Éponine brightened up immediately.

"Alright,  _now_  it's perfect."

*. . .*

True to his word to Cosette, Grantaire spent half of his time at the party drawing. She had threatened to smash up his entire stash of alcohol in front of his very eyes if he didn't make her goddaughters' special day perfect. It was safe to say that he complied faster than anyone, anywhere,  _ever_ , had ever complied to anything.

Éponine and Enjolras had the best day they'd had since they were reunited with the twins after the first three days of their 'holiday'. The Amis still struggled to believe how much the twins had changed all of their lives.

Courfeyrac was ridiculously happy when he was the first person Evette walked to. The moment Éponine let the little girl down onto the floor, she made her way (far too quickly in Éponine's opinion) over the Courfeyrac, her little boots tapping on the floor as she went. She reached her arms up to him and he picked her up, smiling madly.

"Does this prove that I'm the favourite uncle, or do I have to wait until they can talk to get my money?" he said jokily, earning a laugh from the others in the room.

"Excuse me," Gavroche said indignantly, "But I'm their only  _real_  uncle, so I'm the favourite."

"I don't see your logic." Courf said stubbornly.

"That's because you know I'm right," Gavroche said, grinning smugly.

As the afternoon began to turn to evening, Cosette finally gave Grantaire permission to put his sketches away. Grantaire grabbed the bottle nearest to him and downed it in one, not even bothering to see what was in it.

Grantaire was drunk within the hour, and so no one was especially surprised when he broke out into song.

" _Drink with me... to days, gone by,_

_To the life, that used, to be,_

_At the shrine of friendship, never say die_

_Let the wine of friendship,_ " he paused to hiccup, " _Never run dry,_

 _Here's to you... and here's... to me."_  He finished, looking around at everyone, and having each one look back at him.

"It's been a good year, mes amis," Enjolras said quietly. There were murmurs of agreement from the people in the room, and Éponine laid her head on his shoulder, Elyse in her arms. Both of the twins were drifting off to sleep, and both Éponine and Enjolras could say that they had never been happier.

When they got home that night, not ridiculously late, but late enough for both of the twins to be sound asleep, Éponine found herself unable to leave the side of the crib once they had settled the twins into bed.

"Are you alright?" Enjolras asked, coming up before her and wrapping his arms around her waist, resting his chin on the top of her head. Éponine smiled slightly.

"I'm fine," she assured him, "More than fine, actually. I just... want to make the most of every moment. I don't want to feel like I'm missing out on anything. You only live once after all."

"I'd like to think that we've lived twice," Enjolras mused, "Somewhere, in a different life, we died on the barricades. In this life... we've been given another chance to make things right. The way I see it, every day we're living is a bonus." Éponine turned to face him.

"I don't know what I did in that other life," she murmured, "But whatever it was must have been pretty amazing for me to deserve you in this life."

"And I am eternally grateful for whatever that thing was," Enjolras agreed, "It's a good life we're living." Éponine pressed her lips to his, smiling even more.

"That it is, Apollo. That it is."


	32. Our Own Little Fairytale

**What if Éponine and Enjolras got married?**

Éponine frowned as Enjolras groaned, the knocking on the front door waking both of them up.

"Who comes knocking on our door at this time on a  _Saturday_?!" Éponine muttered, swinging her legs out of bed.

"If it's for me, tell them it's my day off," Enjolras called to her, snuggling back under the blankets.

"If it's for you then they won't believe me," Éponine smirked.

"Two and a half years on and I'm still carrying that absurd reputation..." Enjolras mumbled into his pillow, "Honestly, I wasn't  _that_  bad..." Éponine chose to stay silent as opposed to telling Enjolras that, yes, he really  _was_.

Éponine smiled as she walked to the door, poking her head into the nursery to check on the twins. It was now a proper nursery, the twins having been moved to sleep in there a month after their first birthday. After a few restless nights as they settled in, everything was once again calm in the flat.

As the person knocking on the door became more persistent, Éponine sighed.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming!" she called crossly; she was definitely not a morning person, a fact that was known by all of the Amis and taken into serious consideration when any of them were contemplating whether or not to visit her or Enjolras. All of the Amis, even Gavroche, knew that you didn't knock on Éponine's door before ten o'clock, unless it was an emergency.  _Especially_  if it was a Saturday.

So, with the clock barely having struck eight, Éponine was more than a little bit surprised to find Cosette to be the source of the persistent knocking, a determined look on her face. Éponine's face fell into a rather annoyed frown.

"Cosette," she said, her voice low and firm, "It is eight o'clock on a Saturday. It is Enjolras' day off. We were  _all_  still asleep, the twins included. The sun is only just up...  _what in the name of sanity do you want_?!"

"You've put this off for long enough." Cosette said firmly as explanation, pushing past Éponine and entering the apartment, a slightly timid Marius following behind her.

"Sorry to wake you, 'Ponine," he said quietly as Éponine closed the door with an irritable sigh, "I just couldn't rein her in..."

"Enjolras, get up!" Cosette said, entering Éponine and Enjolras' bedroom without even bothering to check if it was alright to do so, "We need to have a serious conversation."

"Would you perhaps like to enlighten us as to what this important conversation is about?!" Éponine questioned, going to the kitchen to make some tea, seeing as it didn't look like her friends were leaving any time soon.

Cosette appeared at the bedroom door, a smile now gracing her face as she answered:

"Your wedding day."

* * *

"I honestly do hope that you realise that this isn't  _your_  wedding, Cosette," Enjolras grumbled as he did the last button on his shirt up, entering the living room after being (literally) thrown out of bed.

"Of course I do," Cosette huffed, "But you've made us all wait long enough, yourselves included. It's about time you made your love official in the eyes of both God and the law."

"Cosette, we don't want to rush things," Éponine reasoned, "Besides we've done  _some_  planning..."

"You've been engaged for a year and a half, 'Ponine!" Cosette whined, "Please stop torturing me with this unnecessary waiting! You both love each other, anyone can see it, and you both want to make it official; why not now?!"

Enjolras and Éponine looked to each other, both trying to silently agree; in the two and a half years they had been together, they had become quite the masters of telepathic discussion. And whilst neither of them had any ambitions of being rushed into anything, especially when it came to their relationship, neither of them could argue against, nor disagree with, Cosette's logic.

"Alright," Enjolras said, his smile still in place, "We'll start planning.  _Properly_  planning. You're right, Cosette... we've waited long enough."

The next few seconds involved an event that would probably never happen again; it was one that shocked all four members sat in Éponine and Enjolras' living room and it certainly wouldn't be one that anyone would forget in a hurry.

Cosette threw herself at Enjolras, wrapping him in a hug so tight that Éponine wasn't sure if her fiancé's eyes were almost popping out due to the pressure Cosette had wrapped his body in, or the shock of her doing it.

"Thank you!" she squealed, "You won't regret it, I promise! Now, I had this idea for the flowers..."

* * *

_*Eight weeks to go*_

Éponine breathed a nervous sigh as she approached Cosette's front door. She knew for a fact that her best friend was out for the day with Marius for Marius' grandfather's birthday, but that Monsieur Fauchelevent (she had still not gotten used to calling him by his original name of Valjean) was at home.

She knocked almost hesitantly on the door, smiling slightly as Valjean opened it, "Good morning, Monsieur." He smiled.

"Good morning, Éponine," he said, "Please, come in. You are aware that Cosette is out for the day?"

"Yes, yes," Éponine said, "It was actually you I came to see."

"Oh really?" he asked, "And what can I do for you?" He led her through to the living room, and sat next to her on the sofa as she talked.

"Well, I'm sure that Cosette has told you that Enjolras and I have set a date for the wedding..."

"She's mentioned it a few hundred times in the last three days, yes," Valjean chuckled, "Congratulations on that, by the way." Éponine laughed quietly.

"Thank you," she said, "And, the thing is that... I've never really had much family, or not a family that I like to be associated with anyway, and I know that that's an important part of the whole marriage process, you know, being surrounded by your friends and family, but seeing as my parents aren't around, I was wondering if..." she stopped suddenly, knowing that she was talking  _way_  too fast. Taking a deep breath, her question practically fell out of her mouth, "Willyouwalkmedowntheaisle?" Valjean blinked, confused, surprised and honoured by Éponine's question, all at the same time.

"I... Éponine, I..." he could barely find the words to accept. She shook her head.

"No, no, it was silly of me to think that you'd want to..." she muttered, fully believing that the man was trying to let her down gently. She stood up to leave, freezing in surprise as one of Valjean's hands caught hers as she did so.

"Éponine," he said quietly, "It would be an honour and a privilege to give you away." Éponine looked at him, her eyes meeting his and filling with tears. She threw her arms around his neck hugging him tightly.

"Thank you." She whispered.

Valjean chuckled, "You are very welcome, Éponine."

* * *

_*Seven weeks to go*_

Enjolras spent the best part of the first week of wedding preparations trying to work out exactly which of friends he wanted to be his best man, and which his ushers. His first thought for his best man was immediately Combeferre, who had offered him so much help, guidance and friendship in the eight years that he had known him that it would be ridiculous to even consider anyone else.

However, then his thoughts drifted to Courfeyrac, who had always offered comic relief (even when Enjolras didn't want or need it). Though it had taken a great many years, the revolutionary leader had come to love Courfeyrac's jokes and sarcasm, even laughing along with the rest of the Amis. However, whilst he was a stupidly lazy student, Courf could also be relied upon to offer the wisest and most moral of suggestions in supposedly unbeatable dilemmas.

And then there was Marius, with whom he could have a heated and detailed debate about politics, and yet still remain on good terms, even if they didn't agree. Unlike Éponine, Enjolras didn't have a 'best friend', because he was, after all, fighting for equality, and picking out a single friend as his favourite would defeat everything he fought for. Despite this, Marius was perhaps the friend Enjolras trusted the most, to be truthful, no matter what the situation, at all times, and to always back him us when he needed the support.

Enjolras found himself stuck between three of his closest friends, trying desperately not to offend any of them (something he wouldn't have worried about before the barricades), and yet still trying to choose the best man for the job, that seemed to be proving even  _more_  difficult.

Luckily for him, his friends seemed have decided the matter for him.

*. . .*

"Here's the thing, Enjolras," Courfeyrac said as the four of them sat around the dining table, "I don't really want the pressures of being your best man."

"And neither do I," Combeferre added.

"Especially because we  _both_  have parents on our backs pushing us into getting jobs," Courf continued, "Not all of us are as lucky as Marius, here, who has everything served to him on a diamond-studded gold platter." The man in question blushed slightly, murmuring incoherently about the fact that he 'actually works to provide for his wife'.

"The point is, Marius is a much better candidate for the pernickety job of 'best man'." Combeferre finished.

"Like I had a choice..." Marius muttered. Enjolras smirked at him, "I'd be honoured, though," Marius said hastily, "That is, if you'll have me."

Enjolras nodded, "Definitely," he said, "But you two can think again if you think you've gotten yourselves out of the wedding completely," he said, pointing an accusing finger at Combeferre and Courfeyrac, who both lost their triumphant grins immediately, "You two are being my ushers."

* * *

_*Six weeks to go*_

"I don't know, Cosette... I feel like this one is just too... fancy." Éponine said, frowning as she looked at herself in the mirror. Cosette glared.

"And what is wrong with fancy?!" she demanded, "It's the biggest day of your life, 'Ponine! It needs to be memorable!"

"Yes, and a big, flowing white dress isn't going to make it any more memorable than if I walked down the aisle wearing rags," Éponine said decisively, "Besides, white just  _isn't_  my colour." Cosette groaned.

"Ivory, then," she said, drifting to another rack of impeccably designed and made dresses, "Or champagne?"

Cosette started pulling out dresses, getting more and more frustrated as Éponine turned down each of them.

"This wouldn't have been an issue if you had your dress custom made like I suggested," she grumbled as she returned yet another discarded dress to the rack.

"That isn't my style," Éponine said, "And  _neither_  is that." She said, looking disgustedly at the next dress Cosette pulled out.

"Oh, Éponine, you are impossible!" Cosette cried, "We'll have gone through the entire shop in a minute! Isn't there  _one_  that you like?" Éponine looked around the room, glancing at the racks. A white dress right in the corner of the room caught her eye. Curious, Éponine moved as quickly as she could in the monstrosity she was wearing, carefully lifting the dress off the rack. She looked it over once before turning back to Cosette, her eyes shining.

"This one," she said, "Definitely this one."

* * *

_*Five weeks to go*_

"What about that one?" Éponine asked, pointing at a ring on display, "That one would suit you. Subtle, but bold." Enjolras frowned.

"No, I don't think so," he said, "It just doesn't look right. What about that one, for you? I like the red stones."

"Oh, that is beautiful," Éponine breathed, "But a tad too elegant. I can't see myself wearing it. Besides, it would clash with the blue on my engagement ring."

"Of course," he said teasingly. Éponine rolled her eyes.

"You may laugh, monsieur," she said, "But  _I'm_  the one who's going to have to wear that ring for the rest of my life. Oh, look at that one, Enjolras!" she said, pointing out yet another ring, "The one with the silver bands on the outside? That one's nice."

"Hmm," he grimaced, "I'm not so sure about the silver bands," he looked thoughtful, "I like the idea of silver, though."

"As opposed to gold?" Éponine questioned, "Cosette will explode."

"All the more reason to go with silver," he muttered. Éponine nudged him with her elbow.

"Don't be mean," she said, "But I do prefer the silver rings... they're much more... well,  _us_."

"Agreed," Enjolras said, "What about-"

"No," Éponine said immediately, her gaze drawn to the other side of the room, "I want that one. And I want you to have the one next to it." Éponine pointed at a pair of rings, obviously meant for a married couple, sitting side by side at the edge of the shop. Enjolras walked closer to get a better look, and then grinned happily.

"They're perfect," he said.

* * *

_*Four weeks to go*_

Enjolras hadn't been so rushed off his feet since the twins were born; he was on one side of Paris in the morning for a meeting with Moreau, and, by lunchtime, he was on the opposite side, trying on suits with Marius.

"Cosette said blue is a good colour," Marius said vaguely, not offering anything more to help him.

"Well, at least I know that blue works," Enjolras grumbled, "Can't you give me anything else?"

"I've been sworn to secrecy!" Marius said defensively, "Cosette is certain that if you know anything other than 'blue' then the whole wedding is going to fail. Just work with it."

"Work with  _what_?!" Enjolras demanded, "'Blue' could be anything! It could match Éponine's dress. It could be that old superstition about blue on your wedding day being lucky. I could just be a colour Cosette likes! How am I supposed to work with  _blue_?!" Marius sighed.

"Just pick a suit that you like," he advised, "Maybe a blue waistcoat? Or a blue cravat?"

"I have a blue cravat," Enjolras told him sulkily, "It's Éponine's favourite. She always makes me wear it when we go dancing."

"This is different," Marius told him, "Weddings are all about... starting afresh. You need something new."

"Sounds like a waste of money if you ask me."

Marius shut his eyes, counting to ten slowly in his head, "Just  _pick one._ "

"Fine," Enjolras grumbled, "What about that one?"

"Hmm, black... a lot of black. I don't think black suits you."

"Pun intended?" Enjolras smirked. Marius frowned.

"What pun?" he asked, confused by Enjolras' comment.

"Suits... because we're looking for a... oh, never mind," Enjolras shook his head dismissively, "If not black, then what colour? I hardly think I can get a custom made green suit!"

"No, no, no," Marius said immediately, "Green and blue would never work. I was thinking grey." Enjolras frowned suddenly.

"You seem very well informed about all of this," he said suspiciously. Marius' eyes widened as he started to shift uncomfortably.

"Well, er... when you've lived with Cosette for as long as I have, it... rubs off on you?" his uncertainty formed a question from his statement, and Enjolras groaned.

"Cosette's given you a list of do's and don'ts, hasn't she?" he asked.

"Possibly," Marius said, "But it doesn't make any difference."

"It's  _my_  wedding," Enjolras protested, "I want to do it  _my_  way. I want to collaborate with Éponine on our own terms instead of through you and Cosette. And, as much as I hate to admit it, you're completely right about a grey suit. I want that one. Let's buy it and leave."

* * *

_*Three weeks to go*_

Éponine and Enjolras sat at the dining table in their apartment, heads bent over a piece of parchment with circles drawn at regular intervals, a semi circle of squares arranged at the top of the page.

"No, no," Éponine said, "There is  _no way_  Grantaire and Phillipa are sitting next to each other. Don't you remember what happened at Courfeyrac's birthday party last year?!" Enjolras' eyes lit up in recognition as he remembered the unfortunate argument between Grantaire and Courfeyrac's sister.

"That really was quite amusing," he said, smirking, "Especially when she poured the wine over his head."

"And he was so drunk that he started licking it off the floor," Éponine said dryly, "Yes, it was positively hilarious. We can put Grantaire on a table on one side of the room, and Phillipa at the other end. At least then we  _tried_  to keep them apart."

"We should have Cosette and Marius at the top table with us," Enjolras said, "They deserve it after all the work they've put in."

"Agreed," Éponine said, "And Monsieur Fauchelevent next to them. What about Gavroche?"

"I was thinking next to my parents," Enjolras said, "He should get to know them. I think he'll like my father."

"Yes, I think so too," Éponine smiled, "They seem like similar people. Then again, it doesn't really matter where we sit him if it's away from Courf, because he'll run off as soon as he possibly can."

"Well, we'll put him with my parents for now," Enjolras said, "We could always ask him where he wants to sit. That reminds me, have you written to 'Zelma yet?"

"Yes," Éponine said, frowning sadly, "She can't get away and she doesn't want to have the responsibility of looking after her charges at the wedding. Madame is going away for a week, so Azelma is looking after them alone. She's devastated that she can't be there." Enjolras squeezed her hand comfortingly.

"We'll tell her all about it," he promised, "Now, we need to make sure to keep Joly away from Courfeyrac and Gianna... they may be completely different in most respects, but when they team up to trick someone, _everyone_  needs to watch out, and Joly is far too gullible for his own good."

"I can't even believe that Gianna is Courf's twin," Éponine muttered, "I think he made that up one day to see how many of us would believe it."

"Oh, no, I've heard all the horrow stories of their childhood, they are  _definitely_ twins.." Enjolras muttered, "But  _anyway_..."

"Right, focus," Éponine said, turning back to the eating plan, "I was thinking about sitting your aunt over there with your grandmother..."

* * *

_*Two weeks to go*_

Éponine and Cosette had been meticulously writing out the place cards for the seating plan for the best part of an hour. The twins sat and watched curiously for a while before wandering away, Éponine keeping one eye on them as she worked to make sure that they didn't get into any trouble.

"Done!" Cosette said triumphantly, just as Éponine also signed off her last card.

"Thank goodness for that," Éponine said, flexing her fingers, "That was the most tedious thing I've ever done."

"Come on," Cosette said, "We need to go and pick up the dresses."

"That's  _today_?!" Éponine exclaimed, "I completely forgot! We're supposed to be meeting Enjolras and Marius for lunch at two!"

"It's isn't going to take us two hours, 'Ponine," Cosette said, "Where are the twins' coats?"

"Right side of their wardrobe," Éponine said, picking the twins' tiny boots up from by the door and beginning to wrestle them on to Elyse's feet. The little girl wriggled persistently, extremely  _not_  happy about the fact that she would have to leave her drawing unfinished.

"Which is whose?" Cosette asked, re-entering the room with the coats.

"Elyse's is blue, Evette's is purple," Éponine said, frowning at the little girl in front of her, "Ellie, please stay still!" Elyse huffed crossing her arms and sitting down on top of her feet. Éponine sighed dramatically, "I suppose you don't want to go and see Papa then..." she said dismissively. Elyse gasped, quickly untucking her feet from under her and sitting as still as a statue as Éponine finally managed to get her boots on. Evette was much more obedient, and they were out of the flat and into a carriage to the dress shop five minutes later.

It had been the coldest December in a while, and Éponine shivered slightly in the cold wind as they stepped back out onto the street, quickly running into the warmth of the dress shop.

When they came back out again it was half past one, leaving Éponine and Cosette enough time to drop the dresses at Cosette's house before going to meet Enjolras and Marius.

"Good afternoon, petite," Enjolras said as he lifted Elyse onto his lap, "Did you have a nice morning?" Elyse nodded, leaning her cold ear against Enjolras' cheek. He chuckled, "Your ears are freezing, Ellie!" She smiled up at him cheekily, before her face lit up even more.

She pointed out the window, "'Unca 'Vroche!" her little voice pierced through the conversation Cosette and Éponine were having with Marius, all three of them stopping their conversation to stare at Elyse.

"Did she just..." Cosette started.

"She did!" Éponine squealed, "Her first words!" Gavroche entered just as she said this, his face falling.

"I missed it?!" he demanded. Enjolras smiled.

"Say it again for Uncle Gavroche, Elyse," he prompted. The little girl frowned slightly before complying.

"'Unca 'Vroche!" Gavroche's eyes widened, his face lighting up as he lifted Elyse from Enjolras' lap.

"You said my name, Ellie!" he said gleefully.

"All the words in the world, and she chooses Gavroche's name to be her first words," Enjolras said, faking disappointment (in all honestly, he was just glad that he'd been there for the memorable moment).

Éponine sighed, shaking her head, not being able to hide the smile on her face, "Now we're waiting on this little one," she said, tickling Evette's side and receiving a giggle in return, "I wonder if Evie will be able to say 'Mama' first..."

* * *

_*One week to go*_

"This is ridiculous, a week,  _a week_ , and then I'll be married, it's arrived so quickly, where did the time go?! Oh, Christ, Cosette, I don't think I can do this!"

Éponine flopped into a chair, her head in her hands, Cosette standing wide-eyed a few feet away. One moment they'd been running through the final plans for the wedding, the next Éponine was going berserk, pacing around the room.

"Éponine..." Cosette started, "Are you alright?" Éponine shook her head.

"I don't think I'm ready to get married," she murmured, her voice muffled behind her hands. Cosette sighed, crouching down in front of her and taking one of Éponine's hands in her own.

"Of course you're ready," she said, "You and Enjolras have been together for more than two and a half years. Marriage doesn't change anything!"

"But what if it does?" Éponine asked worriedly, "What if... what if something goes wrong, and we don't want to be together anymore?"

"You'll work through it," Cosette said firmly, honestly, 'Ponine, the two of you are perfect for each other. No one quite knows why, but you just  _work_. You need to stop worrying about something that isn't even worth thinking about.  _Especially_  when we  _should_  be talking about the flower arrangement." Éponine laughed quietly.

"Alright," she said, "You're right, of course. It's not worth worrying about."

* * *

_*The Big Day*_

Enjolras paced restlessly around the room on the second floor of the country house in which Éponine would soon become his wife, his hands clasped tightly together behind his back as he walked, "Are you sure it's alright? It's just... this is arguably the most important speech I'll ever make! What if Éponine doesn't like it? What if I can't get my words out? What if-"

"Enjolras," Marius interrupted calmly, "Life is too short to focus on the 'what ifs'; you should know that. You're speech is fine, and Éponine will love it no matter what you say. If she didn't, then she wouldn't be marrying you. Just... stop worrying." Enjolras sighed, collapsing into a chair, letting Marius answer the door when a knock echoed through the room. Enjolras barely refrained from rolling his eyes when Courfeyrac, Combeferre and Grantaire filed in, Combeferre with Evette sat on his shoulders and Grantaire carrying Elyse.

"Did we hear that right through the door?" Grantaire questioned teasingly, smiling, "The almighty Apollo is worried about his speech?"

"Not drunk yet then, Grantaire?" Enjolras retorted dryly, "There are people handing out champagne downstairs, or hadn't you noticed?"

"Oh, no need to worry, Apollo," Grantaire smirked, "There's plenty of time for me to get drunk out of my mind at the reception."

"Not around my daughters, you're not," Enjolras said warningly, taking Elyse from him, "Not least because Éponine will have both of our heads on platters if you do."

"Forget both of  _your_  heads," Courfeyrac muttered, "She'll have  _all_  of our heads is she disproves of anything that happens around the twins. I think the only thing that could ever contend for her heart or attention is you, Enjolras."

Courfeyrac's words hit home with Enjolras in a way very little of what Marius had said had done. It was obvious, now that he thought of it; Éponine had said yes to his proposal. That was the first clue to the fact that she really did love him enough to marry him. The second clue was that she had not only carried his children for almost ten months, but had been willing to die to give them to him. And, now, after two and a half years together, she wanted to give him, and him alone, her attention, her love, her life.

And he would rather die than do anything less than the same.

"She loves me, doesn't she?" Enjolras asked, not to anyone in particular, his voice both wondering and awe-filled.

Combeferre smiled, "Without a doubt and more than anything in this world, mon ami," he told Enjolras honestly. Standing up, the revolutionary leader straightened his suit, readjusting the flower pinned to the pocket.

"Right then," he murmured, handing Elyse to Marius, "I think it's about time I got married."

* * *

_Meanwhile in Éponine's room..._

Cosette stood behind Éponine as they looked in the mirror together.

"Oh, Éponine..." Cosette breathed, tears in her eyes, "You look beautiful!"

"Please don't cry, Cosette," Éponine said, smiling as she turned around to face her best friend, "You look beautiful too. And... I want to say thank you, for everything you've done in the past few weeks. This truly is the perfect wedding day and Enjolras and I couldn't have done it without you. You've been incredible and... I'm so lucky to have you as my best friend!" With that, Éponine threw her arms around Cosette's neck in a tight hug, a few tears slipping from her own eyes. She hurriedly wiped them away; Éponine Thénardier (soon to become Éponine DuFay) did _not_ cry at happy things (not often, anyway).

Cosette chuckled, slightly shocked at her friend's gesture but returning the hug nonetheless, "Goodness, Éponine, I don't think I've ever seen you being so... sentimental! I fear your time with Enjolras has resulted in you going soft!" Éponine laughed with her as she pulled away.

"If that is the price I have to pay to be with Enjolras, then I won't complain!"

Before the conversation could go any further, there was a soft knock at the door.

"Come in," Éponine called, turning to face the doorway. Her eyes widened as Azelma's head appeared around the door, "'Zelma! You're... what are you doing here?!" Éponine was smiling uncontrollably. She had just about come to terms with the fact that Azelma wouldn't be coming to the wedding. Seeing her sister was like a dream come true.

"Enjolras wrote to me," Éponine's sister said, also smiling as she walked in and closed the door behind her, "He said that you should have as much family around as possible on your big day. He even said that he would arrange for someone else to look after the children whilst I'm away. And I completely agreed with him: you  _should_  have as much family here as possible. So I said I'd come. Then Cosette made me your bridesmaid..." Éponine turned to Cosette with an even wider smile on her face.

"You, my good friend, are ridiculously perfect," Éponine said, "And I have missed you so,  _so_  much Azelma!" she wrapped her little sister in a hug, desperately trying not to crease the bridesmaid dress, identical to Cosette's, Azelma was wearing.

"I'm glad you found someone who makes you happy, 'Ponine," Azelma said, pulling out of the hug and taking Éponine's hands in her own to prove her sincerity, "Someone who can help you, someone who makes your life better. It's the least you deserve."

Éponine smiled as the door opened once again and Marius entered, each of the twins holding one of his hands as they ran in.

"Look who I brought to see their Mama before she walks down the aisle," Marius said, grinning. Evette giggled as she ran to Éponine, who smiled as she picked the little girl up.

"Mama!" she squealed. Since Elyse spoke her first words two weeks before, both of the twins ad started spouting words here, there and everywhere, Evette finally deciding on 'Mama' for her first word.

Elyse, realising that her mother had run out of arms to hold her as well as her sister, resorted to hugging her mother's leg. Éponine's smile intensified as Marius kissed her cheek, wrapping her in a one armed hug around Evette.

"Congratulations, 'Ponine," he said, his eyes shining as he smiled at her.

"Thank you," Éponine said, grinning back, "How's Enjolras?"

"Driving himself crazy," Marius chuckled, "You should see him, 'Ponine. I'm surprised, if I'm honest. He keeps worrying about what he's going to say at the reception! Of all the things, our ridiculously well spoken revolutionary leader, who literally transformed a country's government with his words, is worried about his  _speech_!" Éponine smiled fondly as Marius greeted Azelma with a kiss on each cheek, going on to peck Cosette lightly on the lips and wrap an arm around his wife, pulling her closer to him. Even after over a year of marriage, Cosette and Marius still looked at each other with an expression of undeniable love, as if every second they were falling in love for the first time. It no longer occurred to Éponine to be jealous; she had found that for herself now.

"How long until we have to go downstairs?" Éponine asked, "All this waiting... it's torture!"

"At last!" Cosette exclaimed, "You understand how I've been feeling for the last year and a half, waiting for you and Enjolras to actually get to the marrying part of your relationship!" Éponine rolled her eyes, but a knock on the door interrupted her chance to protest.

Courfeyrac's smiling face appeared around the door, "It's time." Cosette squealed, picking up Éponine's bouquet from the table at the side of the room, as well as her own and Azelma's. Éponine breathed a shaky breath, suddenly a little bit nervous; she had waited for this day for almost two years, but only in the last two months had she realised just how much she wanted to get to this point of her relationship with Enjolras. She wanted to make it official that they were going to be together forever.

"Right then," Éponine murmured, placing Evette on the floor as she took her flowers from Cosette, "Let's go."

As Éponine walked slowly down the stairs, she saw Valjean waiting for her by the doors of the room in which she would soon become Madame Du Fay. It seemed like longer than a few weeks since she'd asked him to give her away. Now, as he watched her descend to the foyer of the country house, a feeling of pride started to swell inside him.

"My dearest Éponine," he murmured, "You look ever so beautiful."

"Thank you," she said, blushing slightly, "And thank you for agreeing to walk me down the aisle. I can think of no one better to fill the role of my father. You have been more of a parent to me in the last two years than either of my real ones have ever been." She inwardly cursed herself as tears formed in her eyes for the second time that day.  _Pull yourself together, Éponine,_  she thought.

"When I caught sight of you in your parents' inn all those years ago, Éponine, I never once believed that you would grow up in the way that you have. Neither would I ever have expected you to use your life to grow into one of the most respectable, wise and extraordinary people I have ever known. I am proud to call you one of my daughters. Enjolras is a very,  _very_ lucky man." As she had done with Cosette just minutes earlier, Éponine hugged Valjean, willing the tears in her eyes to stay put.

As Éponine pulled away from her honorary father, Cosette and Azelma came down the stairs, helping the twins climb down the stairs one at a time. Cosette smiled warmly at Éponine and her father when she reached the bottom, "Everyone ready?" The two nodded returning her smile.

The door to the room before them opened slightly, and a bright eyed and smiling Gavroche edged out. He froze when he caught sight of his older sister, his mouth dropping open.

"Wow, 'Ponine," he said, smiling widely, "You look amazing!" Éponine chuckled.

"Thank you, 'Vroche," she said, kissing him on the cheek. For once, Gavroche didn't make a face, merely grinning at his sister. Now twelve years old, Gavroche had grown over half a foot, his growth rate getting back on track now that he was living with both Courfeyrac, and Éponine and Enjolras, receiving three meals a day as well as snacks whenever he wanted them. His days on the streets, however, were far from behind him, and it wasn't unusual for the Amis to be wandering the streets of Paris to find him dashing and darting under carts, occasionally slipping a money pouch or a pocket watch from an unexpecting passer-by's coat. He, of course, never did this for himself, and passed whatever he stole on to the nearest woman or child living on the streets for them to sell or spend.

Gavroche offered his oldest sister a cheeky wink and quickly gave Azelma a hug as a greeting as the music started up from inside the room. Valjean offered his arm to Éponine, who took it, smiling nervously, gripping her bouquet tightly with her free hand.

Walking down the aisle was something that Éponine had not expected to be scary. The people in the reasonably large room were her friends, her family or Enjolras' family, all of whom she had met at least once. They weren't intimidating, and they weren't strangers. She shouldn't be scared by them.

But she found herself to be almost shaking with nerves and anticipation as she slowly made her way down the aisle, Gavroche taking the lead with both of the twins, grinning as the proud little brother and uncle that he was. Cosette and Azelma followed a few steps behind, with Éponine and Valjean at the back.

However, as Cosette and Azelma broke away to the side at the end of the aisle, and her view of the front of the room was cleared for the first time, her nerves disappeared instantly. Because there, standing up straight with his hands clasped behind his back, Marius at his side, a smile spread across his face and his eyes solely on her, was Enjolras. Never in her life had it been more important to her that she made sure that he was the one she would spend the rest of her life with.

*. . .*

As Enjolras watched Éponine walk down the aisle towards him next to Cosette's father, his face lit up. All nerves regarding vows, speeches or whether or not Éponine loved him disappeared in an instant. Because, seeing her walk down the aisle, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes upon. But, at the same time, she was so much more.

This was Éponine. Her life was cold and dark, once upon a time. But now, she had Enjolras and Enjolras had her.

And they were going to get their happy ever after.

The ceremony passed quickly, and before either of them realised it, Éponine and Enjolras had made their vows and were exchanging rings.

The priest before them spoke again as Enjolras took Éponine's hands in his, "Do you, Enjolras Phillip DuFay, take Éponine Isabelle Thénardier, as your wife in the eyes of the almighty God?"

"I do," Enjolras said.

"And do you, Éponine Isabelle Thénardier, take Enjolras Phillip Du Fay, as your husband in the eyes of the almighty God?

"I do," she said, a smile spreading across her face

As Enjolras slid the ring onto Éponine's finger, she looked up and caught his eyes in a gaze full of love, devotion and happiness; a look he willingly and readily returned as she slipped the second ring onto his own finger.

"Then I now pronounce you husband and wife," the priest smiled at the two of them, "You may kiss the bride." Enjolras dropped his hands to Éponine's waist and closed the space between them. As she wrapped her arms around his neck, he pressed his lips to hers in their first kiss as a married couple. Éponine smiled against his lips, kissing him back as the people gathered clapped in congratulations. As they pulled apart, Éponine laughed aloud as Grantaire whistled suggestively, and then wrapped her arms around Enjolras' neck again in a tight hug.

"I love you, Éponine," he murmured in her ear, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

"I love you too," she replied. She had never meant those words more than she did in that moment.

* * *

Much like at Marius and Cosette's wedding (Éponine and Enjolras' big day  _had_  been influenced by a certain blonde beauty after all), the wedding reception took place in a large, spacious room adjacent to the room that was acting as a chapel. Round tables were dotted around the dance floor in the centre of the room, and a meticulously planned and highly compromised seating plan was in place, with little name cards situated in the correct seat for each person.

A semi-circle of tables was found at the head of the room, with Enjolras and Éponine sitting at the centre, Marius and Cosette to Éponine's right and Enjolras' parents to their son's left. Valjean was sat at the far right of the table, with Gavroche and Azelma conversing happily at the far left. The twins sat here, there and everywhere, being passed from person to person who marvelled at how much the little girls have grown.

"Goodness, it seems so long ago that they were staying with us whilst you two tried to get a break," Jacqueline said quietly to Enjolras as she bounced Elyse gently on her lap, "You've grown so much, Enjolras." Enjolras smiled at her, stroking his finger down Elyse's face as she tried to grab hold of it.

"I feel like I appreciate that fact more now that I am a parent myself," he replied as he turned to look at Éponine, who was talking to Cosette, "I'm glad that I have someone to share it with." His mother kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"Never in my life have I been more proud of you, my son," she told him, resting her hand on his cheek, "I know we've had our differences, but you've truly come so far, not just for yourself, but for your family and your country. I know that I disapproved of Éponine when I first met her, but I know that she makes you happy, and I am glad that she is a part of our family." Enjolras wrapped his mother in a hug, hoping that he could portray his thanks and gratitude through the gesture.

As he returned his attention to the reception, Marius stood up, tapping his champagne glass with the blunt side of a dinner knife to get everyone's attention.

"Ladies and gentleman, if I could have your attention please," he called as the room fell quiet, "Thank you. I'd like to kick off the speeches with my own: I've known Éponine for over five years and Enjolras for what must be going on a decade."

"Don't exaggerate, Pontmercy, it hasn't been that long!" Grantaire called from a table, smirking. Marius simply chuckled, ignoring his comment.

"In that time, they have both changed more than anyone would ever have imagined they would. Éponine was distant, untrusting and ridiculously good at avoiding people. Enjolras was focused and would rather hit himself on the head repeatedly with a wine bottle than put any passion into something that wasn't for his country. Never in a million years would I have ever seen them together.

"But now, after two and a half years together, two beautiful children and their fair share of difficult situations, I can't see them anywhere but with each other. They have grown into loving, caring people and fantastic friends. I know I speak for everyone when I say that I wish them a lifetime of happiness. So, if everyone will please raise their glasses: to Enjolras and Éponine!" a chorus of 'To Enjolras and Éponine' echoed around the room, and the happy couple smiled to each other. "Now, without further ado, I introduce the groom, Enjolras, with his speech, which he has been panicking about since the early hours of this morning."

Enjolras rolled his eyes as he stood up and Marius sat down, "Thank you, Marius for that wonderful introduction... I'd like to start my speech by saying thank you to everyone for coming; today truly has been very special, and it wouldn't have been the same without you. There are a few, however, who I believe require special thanks:

"First, Courfeyrac and Combeferre, two of my greatest and most true friends. You have been at my side for so many years and have supported me in everything I have done, be it stupid or not. I am truly grateful to the two of you for your guidance and support and I can safely say that I am incredibly lucky to have you as my friends. I thank you both for being our ushers, and also for being my friends; I know that I can be insufferable at times, and you are both saints for putting up with me.

"My second thank you goes Cosette, Marius, Azelma and Gavroche. Cosette, without you, today may still have been a long way off, so, I can't believe I'm saying this, but thank you for being your wonderfully persistent self; it has taken far too long to make Éponine my wife, and it's down to you that everything was organised so quickly and perfectly. Marius, you have become more of a friend to me in the last few years than almost anyone I know. You've been a godsend these last few weeks, and this speech may not have been spoken at all had I not had your honest input. You've been the friend I've needed in times of relationship doubts and wedding problems, so thank you for being there for me. Azelma and Gavroche, you have been incredible siblings to Éponine and I know that you are the family that she needs to be around for her. I am grateful to both of you for being there for her in ways that I can't be; thank you for being a part of both our special day, and our own little family.

"Next I'd like to say thank you to my parents, Jacqueline and Phillip, for truly being the best parents I could ever have. You have brought me up to be strong, independent and passionate, and I would never have achieved what I have without your love and guidance. Another thank you goes to Monsieur Fauchelevent, for being an incredible honorary father for Éponine; she has learnt so much from you, and I am forever grateful to you for being there for her when she has needed a parent.

"And, before I give my most important thank you, I'd like to thank all of my friends; you fought with me on the barricades so very long ago, and without you, your support and your readiness to give your lives, I would never have survived to be here today with all that I have. You are an astonishingly brilliant group of people and I'd like to thank you all: Bahorel, Feuilly, Bossuet, Joly, Grantaire, and Jehan. You are all extraordinary.

"And so, to end my speech, I'd like to thank my beautiful new wife Éponine. You have achieved more in your life than anyone would ever expect you to, and you have made my life so much more special than anyone could believe. You have given me two beautiful daughters, fought alongside me for a better France and have never once doubted my judgment. When I think back to the day our relationship first started, when you were on the brink of death, I never would have foreseen that I would be lucky enough to have you as my wife. You are truly one of a kind, my dearest Athena, and I cannot portray my thanks to you in a way that will make you fully understand. So, ladies and gentleman, if you could please raise your glasses: to my wonderful wife, Éponine."

Everyone once again raised their glasses and Enjolras sat down again, exhaling slowly.

"That... was beautiful." Éponine said quietly to him, taking his hand in hers.

"I'm glad you liked it," he said, smiling sincerely, "I was worried you wouldn't."

"I loved it," she assured him, kissing him lightly on the lips.

* * *

An hour and a half later, after the food had been served and everyone was starting to get bored of chatting, the band in the corner started playing, and the guests moved to the side as the table were pushed away, revealing a dance floor in the centre of the room. Enjolras smiled as he stood from his seat, holding his hand out to Éponine.

"Shall we?" he asked. Éponine nodded and smiled.

"We shall."

Enjolras led her onto the dance floor, her hand still in his as the band started to play a waltz.

"Surely you know  _other_  dances?" Éponine said, pretending to be annoyed by his choice of song.

"None that I like," he teased. They danced for five minutes, stopping abruptly with the music, surrounded by the cheers and applause from their friends.

A slower waltz started up, and Marius and Cosette joined them on the dance floor, the four of them joined a minute later with more of the guests. Grantaire and Courfeyrac's youngest sister, Lillé, were two of the last to join in, but Éponine couldn't help but notice something strange.

"Do you remember, a few months ago, a few days after you proposed, when you told me that Grantaire had a special someone but he wouldn't tell you who it was, or if they were a he or a she?"

"Yes...?" Enjolras said, "What about it?"

"Well," Éponine smiled slightly, "I think I just found out." She nodded subtly over to where said drunkard was dancing with Lillé. Enjolras' eyes widened.

"That would explain why he didn't want to say anything in front of Courfeyrac," he said, starting to smile, "That really is quite amusing..."

"Don't tell anyone," Éponine said immediately, "They'll tell people in their own time. He may even be thinking of proposing to her."

"What makes you think that?" Enjolras asked.

"They way he looks at her," Éponine supplied, "And her at him. Maybe being at a wedding will push him into asking her to marry him." Enjolras nodded.

"Maybe," he said, "Maybe..."

When Éponine was dancing with Gavroche later that night (if it could be called dancing), Enjolras found himself alone with Grantaire at the side of the room, watching the others dance.

"Grantaire?"

"Hmm?" he replied.

"I just want you to know that... your secret is safe with 'Ponine and I. We won't tell anyone." Grantaire frowned at Enjolras' words.

"And what secret might that be, oh God of Prophesies?" he asked, smirking. Enjolras barely hid his grin.

"You," he started, "... and Lillé." Grantaire's face fell into one of shock, gaping at Enjolras as the revolutionary leader chuckled.

"What... how...?" Grantaire spluttered.

"Women see love, mon ami," Enjolras shrugged, clasping Grantaire's shoulder, "And Éponine is  _very_  good at seeing it." With that, Enjolras left his still gaping friend alone, grinning triumphantly at the reaction he had received.

* * *

Éponine and Enjolras returned home in the early hours of the morning, the twins fast asleep in their arms. The pair had both decided that a honeymoon would be far too much effort, especially when the twins were so young, and so settled for a few days off work, relaxing with their friends.

"I honestly thought that Cosette was exaggerating when she said that your wedding day is the best day of your life," Éponine said as the two got into bed, both of them yawning, "But today truly was the best."

"Indeed it was," Enjolras agreed, his eyes closing tiredly, "I'm glad you liked it, 'Ponine. After all of that planning... I'm glad you enjoyed our special day."

"I loved it," she told him, kissing him lightly, "And I love you."

Enjolras smiled as the she curled up against him, instinctively wrapping his arms around her, "I love you too, Madame Du Fay." Éponine smiled kissing him again as she thought of what her life would be like now; the two had their entire lives ahead of them, after all. And they would be spending it together, in their perfect little fairytale. Happily ever after.


	33. At Long Last

**What if Thénardier and the Patron-Minette finally got what was coming to them?**

It was a few months after their wedding when anything even remotely exciting happened in Éponine and Enjolras' lives. It was the twins' second birthday, an amazing event in itself, but, this time, the Amis were making the most of the summer sunshine, and the birthday party for the little girls involved a walk to the park and a picnic.

It was a truly picturesque sight; Éponine and Enjolras lounging together on a blanket, his arm around her as she told everyone a story that had them all in fits of laughter. Evette, who had quite mastered the skill of speech (prompting Grantaire to constantly remind everyone how much she was like her father), was chattering away to Combeferre, who was humouring the little girl by hanging on to her every word. Elyse on the other hand was much more active, and was clinging onto Marius' hands for dear life as she jumped up and down excitedly. The sun was shining and the park was full of families and couples going for walks together, though Éponine, Enjolras and the Amis had managed to find a secluded spot by some trees.

Their day was going perfectly... but, the group being who they were, the peacefulness didn't last long.

"Well, well, well," a sneering voice came up behind Éponine, "Isn't this a nice family outing! Did you not think to ask your parents along, 'Ponine?" Éponine whipped around, immediately positioning herself between Evette and Thénardier, who was backed by six of his gang.

"Long time no see, Papa," Éponine replied coldly, "I see you still can't go around without the support of your idiotic followers. You'd think they'd all have gotten themselves killed due to their stupidity by now, wouldn't you?" One of the men behind Thénardier snarled, stepping forward, but Éponine's father held his arm out to stop him.

"We've got a score to settle, Éponine," he said.

"You've already beaten me within an inch of my life!" Éponine exclaimed, "What else do you need to settle whatever this score is?!"

"Well, your precious children seem to be an adequate price for you abandoning your family." Before Éponine could say anything along the lines of 'you'll take them over my dead body', Combeferre, Grantaire and Marius had positioned themselves in front of her.

"You'll have to get through us first," Marius said immediately. At this, Thénardier and his cronies all burst out laughing, providing the perfect distraction for Enjolras to drag Courfeyrac away.

"Are you insane?!" Courfeyrac hissed as he got pulled further away from the scene, "They'll get through those three in about five seconds!"

"Where are my weapons?" Enjolras asked, ignoring his friend as they approached the entrance of the slums. Courfeyrac's face lit up.

"Enjolras, you genius," he exclaimed, "They're this way. Come on, we need to hurry." Enjolras didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

Meanwhile, Thénardier and his gang had stopped laughing and was now back to sneering at the three men in front of him.

"What makes you think that you three  _bourgeois boys_  can take on all of us?" he questioned, looking at the three of them as if they'd just come out of the sewers.

"Well, unless you three fought on a barricade against the National Guard..." Grantaire smirked, "I'd say we've quite a bit more experience than you lot."

"You wish," Thénardier snarled.

"This lot could take you down easy!" Gavroche called out from behind the three Amis.

"Hush, Gavroche," Éponine said desperately, trying to keep her brother out of it.

"Well!" Thénardier exclaimed, "If it isn't my boy Gavroche!"

"I'm not your boy!" Gavroche said angrily, only staying put because Jehan was holding him back, "You lost the right to call me that the first time you hit me. I ran away because you are a sorry excuse for a person and I hate you for what you've done to Éponine and Azelma."

"Big words for such a little boy," Thénardier scoffed, "Words you'll come to regret one day."

Éponine was slowly becoming more and more concerned for her daughters' safety. She didn't know what to do; Combeferre, Grantaire and Marius were only stalling her father and his gang, and there was no way any of them could fight them off when they were unarmed. Adding this to the fact that her father probably  _did_  have a weapon, and Éponine was bordering on full-on panic.

Then a voice behind her made her fears melt away in an instant, "You make a lot of threats for a man too cowardly to go through with them yourself."

* * *

It was Courfeyrac's turn to drag Enjolras through the streets of Paris until, finally, they reached the middle of the slums, which had become considerably smaller since the fight on the barricades. Enjolras didn't waste any time actually appreciating this fact, however, as Courfeyrac was climbing up the half-finished stone elephant that had once been Gavroche's home.

"What  _are_  you doing?!" Enjolras demanding, "We do not have time for you to practice your climbing skills, Courfeyrac!"

"I'm retrieving your weapons, idiot!" his friend said, rolling his eyes, "Honestly, Enjolras, what do you take me for?!"

"You... you hid my weapons in  _Gavroche's_   _elephant_?!" Enjolras exclaimed, "Of all the..."

"It was Gav's idea, not mine," Courf said grinning before lowering himself into the elephant. After half a minute his head popped back up again, "Catch!" he called down to Enjolras, who barely caught the shotgun Courfeyrac threw down. He also had to catch a bayonet (which very nearly pierced a hole in his hand) and two more shotguns.

"You have no idea how much I've missed having a weapon in my possession," Enjolras muttered as Courfeyrac passed down.

"Oh, I really do," Courf replied as Enjolras handed his a gun and the bayonet, "That was the only good part of the barricade. I'd like to think my shot's improved since then..."

"Only one way to find out," Enjolras said gravely, "I just hope we're not too late."

"We won't be," Courf reassured his friend, but the two sped up nonetheless.

* * *

Enjolras felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude towards Marius, Grantaire and Combeferre as he saw the three standing protectively in front of Éponine and the twins. He was almost surprised to see Cosette looking less frightened than Éponine (bearing in mind that she was being faced with the man who made her childhood hell), but, looking at how she was protectively holding Elyse in her arms, Enjolras realised that this wasn't Cosette he was looking at. He was looking at Madame Pontmercy, who would rather die than let anything happen to her godchildren.

For the first time in their lives, Enjolras and Courfeyrac were glad that their three friends were a few inches taller than them; it allowed them to sneak up behind them and catch Thénardier and the Patron-Minette by surprise.

They came within hearing distance just as Thénardier was snarling at Gavroche, "Big words for such a little boy. Words you'll come to regret one day." Enjolras had been with Éponine for long enough to realise that she was panicking.

"You make a lot of threats for a man too cowardly to go through with them yourself." Enjolras called out from behind his friends, causing them all to look around at him, Éponine with a look of pure relief on her face.

"You think you're so big and clever," Thénardier said, looking down at Enjolras with a look of pure disgust on his face, "But you're just a bourgeois boy. You don't know  _anything_."

"That's rich, coming from you!" Enjolras scoffed, "Now, be on your way. In case you haven't notice, I'm armed, and  _I_  actually know how to use my weapons."

"Are you saying I don't know how to use a gun?" Thénardier said.

"I'm saying you don't know how to use a gun effectively." Enjolras corrected him. Thénardier barely stopped himself from gaping before turning to his gang.

"Éponine, Cosette," Combeferre murmured, "Cover the twins' ears." Éponine nodded, and covered Evette's ears immediately, Cosette doing the same with Elyse.

"I think it's about time we taught this boy a lesson," he said smirking. To give him  _some_  credit, Thénardier drew his weapon quickly and most definitely knew how to use it. Unluckily for him, by the time he almost had his gun in place, Enjolras had aimed his gun at his target and fired.

Thénardier collapsed, holding his foot in absolute agony as Combeferre used Enjolras' shot as a distraction to get the police.

"You absolute-" he was cut off by Enjolras' gun being aimed at him again.

"Think about your choice of words, monsieur," he said seriously, "I won't have you corrupting my daughters." Grimacing, Thénardier closed his mouth. Enjolras was so focused on the man that he didn't realise one of the other members of the Patron-Minette was aiming his gun at him.

Luckily for him, Courfeyrac  _was_  a better shot than he had been two years ago, and fired his bullet straight into the gang member's hand. Enjolras, realising what situation he'd been in, nodded gratefully to Courfeyrac, keeping his gun trained on Thénardier.

By the time Combeferre returned with the police, the majority of Thénardier's gang had run off; Enjolras wasn't bothered about them. He knew that, as long as Thénardier was locked away, the Patron-Minette would cease to exist.

As Thénardier and the man who had tried to shoot Enjolras were taken away, a police officer questioned Enjolras about their mysteriously gained bullet wounds.

"I don't really understand it officer," Enjolras said, his voice so convincing that no one would ever doubt it, "It was like he didn't want to get away. One minute he was threatening to abduct my daughters, the next he was shooting himself in the foot! And then, when his friend here tried to shoot me, he shot his friend as well! Honestly, it was all very confusing." The officer was completely taken in by Enjolras' explanation, and apologised for the hassle they had suffered that day.

When the police officers had left and taken Thénardier with them (the latter screaming obscenities at Enjolras), Éponine passed Evette to Marius and threw herself at her husband.

"What would I do without you?" she murmured in his ear, "That was incredible, Enjolras. Really, truly amazing. You... my father's going to prison! He's really getting locked away!" Enjolras hugged Éponine tightly.

"I told you, 'Ponine," he replied, "No one is ever going to hurt you, or our little girls." As Éponine let go, she wrapped Gavroche in a hug before looking at him sternly.

"Don't you ever provoke him like that again, 'Vroche!" she said, "What if he hadn't been arrested? He'd have come after you!"

"He would have to go through me first," Courf said, laying a hand on Gavroche's shoulder, "It's all over, 'Ponine. I doubt your father will be out of prison before he's a hundred and fifty, the number of crimes he's committed over the years..."

"Mama!" Evette cried, wanting her mother's attention. Éponine immediately took her back from Marius.

"It is over, isn't it?" she murmured, looking to Enjolras, who nodded, smiling.

"We'll never have to worry about your father again, 'Ponine," he told her, smiling as Cosette passed Elyse over to him, "This is certainly going to be a birthday the twins won't forget."

"How can they remember?" Gavroche questioned sceptically, "They're  _two_!"

"They'll have their Uncle Gavroche to exaggerate all the facts and tell them the best story imaginable," Éponine said smiling, "And you'll tell them all about the day when their Papa was a hero and made the bad man go away forever."

"And they'll hear all about how Papa finally got his weapons back!" Enjolras said gleefully. The Amis all found this ridiculously hilarious.

"Where were they, anyway?" Éponine questioned.

"In my elephant!" Gavroche said, smiling proudly, "It was my idea!"

"All that time, and they were literally on our doorstep?" Éponine murmured to Enjolras as they all sat down to (try and) enjoy the rest of their picnic.

"I know," he muttered, "Embarrassing, isn't it?"

"I think it's hilarious," Éponine said giggling, "Did you get them all back?"

"Only the few we needed," Enjolras replied, "But don't worry: I'm going back later and getting the rest." Éponine smiled, taking a bite out of a pastry as Evette chewed on a grape.

They stayed at the park until the early hours of the evening, when the twins were starting to fall asleep. They packed everything up and walked back towards their respective apartments and houses, saying their goodbyes.

"Oh, and Enjolras," Courfeyrac grinned as he and Gavroche started walking in the direction of their flat, "If you think all of your weapons are in that elephant, you're wrong."

The look of horror on Enjolras' face was enough to keep Éponine and the rest of the Amis laughing for the rest of their lives. Or at least until Enjolras eventually got all of his weapons back.


	34. What We Want

**What if Enjolras had to go away for work?**

When Enjolras first received the letter, he'd not fully understood it. His employers (though it was easier to believe that it was in fact  _Enjolras_  employing  _them_ ) knew his situation; he was married, and he had two young daughters. Yes, he lived for his work, but it wasn't the  _only_  thing he lived for. He simply put the letter in a drawer and didn't think about it again.

But when Monsieur Moreau (who had been working with Enjolras since the beginning and now had a kind of grudging respect for the younger man) brought it up at their monthly meeting, Enjolras struggled to believe that he was actually being serious.

"Sorry, monsieur, but I don't understand... I'm not quite sure how my moving closer to the government buildings will benefit  _anyone_ , most of all myself and the people we're trying to help."

"The issue is, DuFay, that monthly meetings and the occasional debate session are not producing enough progress," Moreau explained, "You fought long and hard to get where you are today, and you certainly made an impression. The King, after a while, was willing to accept your cause, but  _only_  if you could move on it and make it happen. The problem is, that it  _isn't_  happening, not to the extent that it is worth the government's time and money. I'm trying to do you a favour here."

"Forgive me, sir, but I can't leave my family," Enjolras said immediately, "Because I assume this move wouldn't involve bringing my wife and daughters with me?"

"It's a one-person apartment," Moreau confirmed, "And it would allow you to be more hands on with this project. You can visit your family at the weekends and even in the evenings if you felt like it. You'd be an hour away at most, and you'd be able to get back in time to read your children a bedtime story. It's an opportunity you can't afford to miss."

Enjolras sighed, not happy with the situation; leave Éponine? With the twins still so young? Could he really bring himself to do such a thing?

"What of my advisors?" Enjolras asked then, "Éponine, Marius and Grantaire all have a lot to say, and I need their input to produce an effective and thoroughly researched proposition. You cannot simply ask me to sack the people who provide some of the key points to my arguments."

"You will get time each week to meet them to discuss and put together your presentations, Enjolras," Moreau said, "It would only be for a few months. You'd be back at home full-time with your family before Christmas." Enjolras sighed again, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Let me talk to Éponine," he said finally, "And then I'll write to you with my answer." Moreau nodded understandingly as Enjolras stood up to leave.

"Enjolras," he said as Enjolras reached the door, "Don't take too long to decide, hmm? Time is of the essence."

* * *

"He wants you to  _what_?!" Éponine shrieked, standing up indignantly from her chair at the dining table. The twins looked up from where they were also sat at the table, the four of them eating dinner... or attempting to, at least.

"I know," Enjolras said quietly, "I don't want to do it either. But... If I don't do it, then there's a chance I could lose my place in the government, 'Ponine. I can't risk that."

She sat down, her face falling into a sad frown, "I know that, and I understand," she replied, "But... I don't know how to live without you, Enjolras. Nearly three years we've been living together, and I don't know any different. I certainly don't  _like_  it being any different." Enjolras took her hand in his.

"It'll only be for a few months," he reasoned, trying desperately to persuade himself as well as his wife, "And I'll come back every Friday evening and I'll leave late on Sunday. I'll even come back in the evenings like Moreau said. If I leave in two weeks, I'll be back home again for Christmas." Éponine sighed.

"You seem to have your mind made up," she said, trying her best to keep the sadness form her voice. "Just... promise me that you'll always come back?"

"Always, 'Ponine," he said, "I promise."

* * *

Later that evening, Enjolras was tucking the twins into bed.

"Papa, why Mama shout at dinner?" Evette asked him quietly. Enjolras sighed (something he seemed to have done a lot that day), but smiled at his daughters.

"Papa has to go away for a little while," he explained, "Because of my work. Mama doesn't like it, and neither do I, but it's only for a little while and it's very important." Elyse frowned.

"You come back?" she asked, her eyes wide as she looked up to her father pleadingly. Enjolras smiled.

"I'll always come back, Ellie," he said quietly. Elyse smiled; even at two years of age, she understood the sentiment her father wanted to show when he called her by the nickname he rarely used. Elyse snuggled under the blanket as Evette held her arms out to her father, asking silently for a cuddle. Enjolras obeyed immediately, lifting her onto his lap.

"Don't want you to go," she sniffled, rubbing her face on his shirt, searching for comfort.

"It's not forever, Evie," he murmured to her, "I'll come back every day if you want me to. And you have Mama, and all of your uncles. You'll never be alone."

"Every day?" she asked.

"Every day," Enjolras promised, "We'll all be together again by Christmas." Evette sighed, yawning as her father's words comforted her slightly.

"I get Unca 'Vroche on you if you don't." She said sleepily. Enjolras chuckled.

"Come on, poppet," he said quietly, placing her back on her bed and draping the covers over her, "I'll still be here in the morning, I promise." Evette smiled slightly, sucking her thumb and grasping the teddy bear Musichetta had made her.

"'Night, Papa," she said.

"Goodnight, Evette. Goodnight, Elyse." He said quietly, leaving the door ajar slightly.

He made his way back through to the living area, sitting down next to Éponine on the sofa.

"Are they asleep?" Éponine asked him, putting the book she's been reading on the table.

Enjolras nodded, "Once I promised them that I'd definitely be coming back..." he muttered. Éponine smiled sympathetically.

"It'll be fine," she said, leaning her head on his shoulder and slipping her hand into his, "It might even good for you to get away for a while. It'll give you the chance to work without any distractions."

"If you think you, or the twins, or Gavroche or any of the Amis are distractions, 'Ponine, then you don't know me very well," Enjolras smirked.

"Oh, so Grantaire's annoying habits don't distract you at all?" Éponine questioned smugly.

"Not in the slightest," Enjolras confirmed.

"Not his obsessive drinking?" Éponine asked.

"No."

"His ridiculously loud and opinionated interruptions?"

"Nope."

"What about the way he flicks your ear when he's drunk and wants your attention?" Enjolras faltered, causing Éponine to laugh triumphantly, "I knew it!"

"I'll admit that the ear flicking is a tiny bit annoying," Enjolras said grudgingly, "But I work better surrounded by people. They inspire me."

"Then you'll have to be inspired by the lovely, stuck-up, ignorant snobs who work in the government buildings." Éponine said, smirking again.

"You have such a high opinion of your colleagues," Enjolras said sarcastically.

"Marius and Grantaire are my colleagues," she corrected him, standing up, still holding his hand, "And you're my employer. I have absolutely no ties to them at all, and so I will say what I wish."

"I'm going to miss you so much," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"You'll barely even be gone," Éponine said quietly, her hands on his shoulders, "What did you promise the twins to get them to sleep?"

Enjolras huffed dejectedly, "Were you listening?"

"You know I wasn't," she grinned, "But I  _do_  know you, Enjolras. Come on, tell me. How many days are you coming back?"

"I said every day," Enjolras grumbled, "An hour's journey every day..."

"Two hours there and back," Éponine grinned, "You're going to be exhausted."

Enjolras smirked, "I've helped to raise twins; how exhausted can I get?!" Éponine laughed, and the sound made Enjolras smile.

"You're a good father, Apollo," Éponine said, her voice serious but with a smile on her face, "The best. Most fathers would just come back at the weekend, if then."

"One day," he murmured, "You're going to grasp the fact that I'm not like other people. And I like that."

"I like it too," Éponine told him, still smiling.

* * *

A while later, they were curled up in bed, content in each other's embrace.

"I can't even imagine what it's going to be like sleeping in this bed alone," Éponine murmured, "It's been  _our_  bed for over two years... that's a _long_  time."

"Maybe I'll stay the night a few times," Enjolras suggested, "And go back early the next morning. I can't believe I'm actually doing this... I can't believe I'm actually going."

"We keep talking about this as if it's the end of the world," Éponine chuckled, "It's not. It's not even  _close_  to the end of the world."

"It still matters, though," Enjolras said quietly, "We're married, 'Ponine. I'm supposed to be here to help you, to take care of you. I can't do that from the other side of Paris."

"It's just as well we have so many overprotective friends, then, isn't it?" Éponine said, "I'm sure Courfeyrac would be more than happy to camp on the sofa..."

Enjolras laugh, "If that actually happens, please draw it for me," he says, "That's something I never want to miss. I've only ever seen him on the floor."

"Deal," Éponine said, playing with a loose thread on his shirt (which had become something of a habit for her). The two were silent for a long while, and Enjolras was almost asleep when Éponine spoke again. "Enjolras?"

"Hmm?" he replied.

"Do you think, maybe, one day... we could have another baby?" his eyes snapped open in surprise. He didn't answer for a while, and he realised he'd probably been silent for  _too_  long when Éponine started babbling, "It's alright if you don't, because I know we have the twins and it was stressful with them, and what with you moving for work and everything, but-"

"I'd love that," he interrupted her, "I'd love to have another baby with you."

"You would?" Éponine asked, sitting up and looking at him through the darkness.

"Of course I would!" he exclaimed, propping himself up on his elbow, "How could I not?! When you've given us two beautiful daughters... why wouldn't I want another child?"

"I just... we don't have an easy life, Enjolras," Éponine said quietly, "Working for the government to free the oppressed... that's a  _big_  job. But... all of this, you moving away and the twins growing up, and my father finally getting what he deserves... it's made me realise that life is nothing if you don't do what you  _want_  to do, as well as what you  _have_  to do. And I want to have another baby." Enjolras presses his lips to hers, smiling uncontrollably.

"I want nothing more than to have another baby with you, 'Ponine." He told her. Éponine threw her arms around his neck.

"I love you."


	35. Our Lives in Letters

**What if Enjolras and Éponine had to learn to live with their lives apart?**

The first month and a half of Éponine and Enjolras' temporary separation went reasonably well. Enjolras gradually reduced his visits to two nights a week and from Friday evening through to Sunday night (because even he had to admit that it was exhausting to have to get up at four in the morning simply to get back in time for work). The time he sent with Éponine and the twins was even more special than it had been before, and Enjolras found himself longing for the weekends. He and Éponine had started working on their plans for another child, with no obvious results as of yet. It wasn't ideal, but it wasn't end of the world.

During their time apart, Éponine and Enjolras relied on letters to stay in contact, which, for a while, was arguably more romantic and far less likely to cause an argument...

* * *

September 1st 1834

_Dearest Éponine,_

_It is strange to be communicating like this with you when, for the last two and a half years, I have become so accustomed to spoken conversation. I feel myself slipping into more formal ways to address you, despite the fact that we have been together for so long._

_It is, however, a change. And I'm nothing if not adaptable._

_Firstly, I must ask: how are the twins? I know it has only been a few days since I last saw them, but already I'm realising just how much I enjoy the everyday tasks of being a parent._

_Secondly, how are you? Are you alright, on your own? Have the Amis been taking care of you? You haven't had any trouble with anyone at all? Goodness, it's ridiculous how my being away makes me worry... never before have I worried so much about leaving you alone. I often forget, recently, just how strong you really are._

_Moreau has kept me reasonably busy over the last two days; I'm already having to plan meetings with Marius and Grantaire, and all four of us will have to meet again soon. Things move so much faster in the middle of the city._

_I am missing you already and I can't wait for Friday; it has already been far too long since I last saw you._

_Love,_

_Your Enjolras xx_

*. . .*

Éponine read the letter on Thursday, smiling slightly; she, too, was missing her beloved, and she found it bizarre how the world looked so much bigger now that Enjolras wasn't with her.

"Mama?" Evette tugged her sleeve, "When Papa home?" Éponine stroked her daughter's hair lovingly.

"Tomorrow, Evie," she said, "I'm sure he can't wait to tell you and Elyse a story." Evette hugged her mother's legs tightly before running off again. As Éponine refolded the letter and tucked it away in a drawer, there was a knock at the door.

Opening it, she smiled slightly to see Grantaire, "Well, well. The last time you made a house call it was to banish Enjolras and I to Cosette and Marius' holiday home. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Grantaire smirked.

"I thought you could use the company," he said, shutting the door behind him as Éponine let him in, "Plus: I brought cake." Éponine grinned.

"That's always a bonus," she said, "I didn't know you could bake..." Grantaire chuckled.

"I can't," he said, "It was made by... it was a gift."

Éponine rolled her eyes, "I know about Lillé, Grantaire," she said, "You can be honest around me. I think you two are adorable together." Grantaire went bright red with embarrassment.

"I still don't know how you worked that out," he grumbled, sitting at the table as she made tea.

"The way the two of you danced at mine and Enjolras' wedding," Éponine said, smiling at the memory, "It was the same way Apollo and I were dancing. I know my own feelings when they're reflected back at me, Grantaire. That girl loves you, I know that for sure."

"You think?" he asked, letting the tiniest bit of insecurity slip into his tone. Éponine smiled.

"I  _know_ ," she said, "Now, this calls for cake."

* * *

September 8th 1834

_My Apollo,_

_That truly was a wonderful weekend. It truly reminded me of just how much I'm wishing for us to have a child together. Sometimes I think that our separation makes the time we spend together even more special, but then I realise that it simply makes our time apart more heartbreaking. I miss you so very much, Enjolras._

_The twins are at a loss without their father. Elyse misses the time she spends with you each Thursday, and Evette has asked me to read her the same book every night for the last five days because it is apparently your favourite (A Revolutionary Tale; a wise choice, dearest Enjolras!). They, too, miss you greatly._

_Gavroche ordered me to tell you that he'll make sure that I'm safe whilst you're away; it was an interesting conversation to have with him when he arrived last night. He said he's looking forward to seeing you when you next come home, as are the rest of the Amis._

_I thought when you come back one evening, we could go to the Musain; it feels like an age since we were all together. It may well be the last time in a while._

_Stay safe out there in the depths of Paris, my love. You never know what might happen!_

_Love,_

_Your Éponine xx_

_*. . .*_

On the other side of Paris two days later, Enjolras was smiling slightly as he reached the part of Éponine's letter where Gavroche was mentioned. Enjolras knew that if Gavroche was protecting Éponine, then Courfeyrac was most likely protecting her too, which put his mind at ease slightly.

He sighed, casting his gaze over the pile of paper work he was supposed to be going over, his heart filling with dread as he realised that it would be two more days before he could be reunited with his family.

Folding Éponine's letter carefully and tucking it away, he immersed himself in statistics and badly written reports, wondering what on earth happened to the days when he would be conducting speeches and being passionate about something he truly believed in.

* * *

September 30th 1834

_Dear 'Ponine,_

_I'm afraid I'll be late this weekend; due to our meeting on Tuesday, Moreau is insisting that I finish all of the work I missed before I return. I honestly don't believe that I can finish it by Friday afternoon, so I hope to be with you at some point on Saturday._

_Please tell the twins that I'm sorry; I'll read them an extra story on Sunday to make up for it._

_I'm sorry this letter isn't longer; I wish I had the time to write more to you. For now, I shall simply finish this letter with the most important thing of all:_

_I love you,_

_Enjolras xx_

*. . .*

Éponine sighed, folding the letter and pushing it to the side; it was not the first of its kind that she received. This was the third time in three weeks that Enjolras had arrived home late. A fortnight later, an almost identical letter followed, this time stating that Enjolras wouldn't be back until early on Sunday morning and would leave the same day. Éponine began to wonder what it was she wanted to change; she knew, deep down, that she wanted the cause to succeed, and, for that, Enjolras had to work away for a while. However, she also knew that she wanted the best for her and her children, which was only achievable with Enjolras by her side.

Knowing this, the next letter she wrote was longer as she desperately tried to find some kind of comfort in his return letter.

* * *

October 6th 1834

_Dear Enjolras,_

_I know it has only been a day since I last saw you, but I continuously find myself at a loss without you by my side. As much as I hate to admit it, I miss your infuriating insistence on keeping everything in its place. I found one of Elyse's socks under the sofa on Tuesday, and searched for hours looking for Evette's toy rabbit (it was at the back of a drawer in their bedroom)._

_Not only that, but it's far more lonely than I ever imagined it would be sleeping alone in our bed each night. I'm always counting down the hours until you should be coming home, and it's always far too long away._

_For now, I can think of little else to say, except that I love you and I can't wait to have you back with me, if only for a short while._

_The twins say that they miss you lots and that they'd like you to tuck them in and tell them a story when you come home at the weekend._

_I'll see you soon and love you more than I can say,_

_Your Éponine xx_

_P.S. The Amis miss their leader and are anxious for your return. Perhaps you could spare a letter to Combeferre at some point? You know how much he enjoys writing back._

* * *

October 8th 1834

_My dearest Éponine,_

_I, too, look forward for this weekend; I fear my visits will become fewer still as time goes on. My workload seems to increase by the day, always relentless and forever making me regretful of the time I'm missing with you, the twins and all of the Amis._

_I will be coming home on Friday and I don't plan to return to my apartment until Monday morning; it has been far too long since we had some quality time together and I want to make the most of it._

_I miss you more and more every day, and I keep thinking that maybe my moving away wasn't such a good idea. I feel awful going to bed each night without tucking the twins in, and it's a terrible thought that I'm leaving you alone each night with the girls... what if something happens? I could never forgive myself if it did._

_I long to be home with you and our little girls, and I hope that the week will simply fly by so that I can be with you once more._

_Love,_

_Your Enjolras xx_

*. . .*

True to his word, Enjolras spent that entire weekend at home and, for a while, Éponine was coping better with their separation. However, as time went on, the situation worsened still.

* * *

October 16th 1834

_My Athena,_

_I'm afraid I won't be able to make it back this week; I have suddenly been swamped by an endless workload that will occupy all of my free time. I wish I could be at home with you, but Moreau has given me a deadline, and I daren't risk the progress we have made by being late._

_Please tell Evette and Elyse how truly sorry I am. I love you all so very much and I will see you at the weekend._

_Love,_

_Enjolras xx_

* * *

October 18th 1834

_Dearest Apollo,_

_Never before have I wanted you by my side more than now. Each day passes longer than the one before without you here with me. The girls miss their Papa and constantly pester me to ask when you will be home. It hurts me to not have an answer for them._

_I feel like something isn't right; call it being paranoid, call it instinctual worry, but something isn't the same. I'm struggling to cope without you._

_Your next visit cannot come fast enough._

_Until then, my love,_

_Éponine xx_

_*. . .*_

As time went on their letters became less frequent and shorter in length. When Éponine received a letter from Enjolras, she could predict what it would say before she opened it: that he would either be late home, or wouldn't be coming at all.

By November, she couldn't even find the will to return those letters; the ones where her husband left her to break the news to the twins that Papa wouldn't be home again that week. She knew that this was probably hurting Enjolras' feelings, but the fact that he wasn't there to help her through the situation only made her angrier.

* * *

She certainly hadn't been lying when she said that something felt wrong; days after sending that letter, Éponine's worrying was proved right.

Gavroche ran up the stairs, followed by a dramatically slower Joly, who had been charged with dropping the little boy off at Éponine's apartment.

Gavroche burst into the flat in his usual fashion: without knocking and making a ridiculous amount of noise. The apartment was otherwise silent, and Gavroche subconsciously remembered that Cosette and Marius had taken the twins out for the day.

What he didn't expect to see when he walked around to the kitchen was Éponine passed out on the floor.

"'Ponine?" he said worriedly, shaking her shoulder, "'Ponine, are you alright? Éponine?  _Éponine_!" as his sister stirred slightly, Gavroche ran out of the room, finding Joly just reaching the top of the stairs.

"Whatever possessed Enjolras to have an apartment on the second floor?" he muttered.

"Joly, quick!" Gavroche said desperately, "It's 'Ponine! I think she fainted. She was just on the floor and..." he trailed off, slightly out of breath as Joly quickened his pace.

"Where?" he asked.

"Kitchen," Gavroche replied immediately, "She was waking up a second ago, when I was calling her name."

Joly found Éponine sitting up against a cupboard door, frowning, "What happened?" she asked, confused.

"You tell me," he replied, smiling slightly, "Gavroche said you might have fainted?"

"Maybe," Éponine shrugged, "It's a bit of a blur to be honest."

"Do you feel alright?" Joly asked, "You do look quite pale..."

"I'm fine, Joly," she replied, smiling slightly as he helped her stand up, "I'm just tired, I suppose. What with Enjolras not being here, the twins aren't sleeping very well." She led him to the door, "Thanks for bringing Gavroche over."

"My pleasure," he replied, "Are you sure you're alright? You really don't look very well." Éponine rolled her eyes.

"I'm fine," she told him, "Honestly, Joly, you do wor-" she stopped suddenly, her hand flying to her mouth, barely reaching the flower pot by the door before throwing up.

"'I'm fine', she says," Joly muttered, rushing to Éponine's aid, "'You worry too much', she says. Honestly, one day people are going to actually listen to me.  _I'm_  the doctor around here!"

"Joly?" Gavroche was frowning by the sofa, looking disgustedly at the contents of Éponine's stomach that were now residing in the flower pot, "You're talking to yourself again."

* * *

A month later, the situation was no better; Enjolras was either late, or he didn't turn up for visits at all, and the letters between him and Éponine were so short they may as well not have written them at all. Éponine was starting to feel as if the 'I love you' that Enjolras wrote at the end of each letter meant nothing at all. Enjolras didn't have any time to think of anything that wasn't work or sleep.

Unfortunately for the two, things had to get worse before they got better.


	36. Not Every Battle is a War

**What if Éponine and Enjolras' lives began to change again?**

It was the beginning of December when the pair finally had their first proper fight.

Later on, Courfeyrac would laugh and say that they'd done well; two and a half years without a single fight was an achievement to say the least. Even Marius and Cosette were known to have their arguments, though theirs usually ended with both participating members in tears, begging for the other's forgiveness.

When Enjolras' carriage finally pulled up outside the block of flats he called home, he was exhausted; it was almost eleven o'clock at night on a Wednesday evening, and he'd been stuck in a hall with seven stubborn officials since nine that morning, debating about something that Enjolras now couldn't remember for the life of him. He practically fell up the stairs, and he was thoroughly looking forward to falling into bed and curling up with Éponine for a few hours, trying to catch some sleep before he had to leave at six o'clock in the morning, knowing that it was unlikely that he would return that weekend.

Éponine, however, had other ideas, which became immediately apparent to Enjolras as he quietly entered their apartment.

"You're late." She said, her voice deadly quiet, her arms crossed as she sat on a chair at the dining table, watching the door as he came in.

"I know," he sighed, "I'm sorry. I got caught up, and then the horses got spooked on the way here and we had to stop..."

"The twins were expecting you to be home by seven," she said, standing up and crossing the room towards him, "It took me three hours to get them to finally go to sleep. Evette was almost sick from crying because her Papa wasn't home to tuck her in. Elyse is currently asleep  _under_  her bed because she refused to go to bed without a goodnight kiss from  _you_. It's not good enough, Enjolras, for you to come waltzing in at an hour to midnight, simply saying 'sorry'!"

"What else can I say, Éponine?!" he asked, exasperated, "You know I have to work! I can't just abandon the cause I've spent my life working for! What happened today was an inconvenience, and I apologise for not being able to get home until now, but I'm here, aren't I?"

"You're here  _four hours late_!" Éponine screeched, "I have had to deal with two little girls who want absolutely  _nothing_  unless it is their Papa! Do you have any idea how heartbreaking it is to see your little girl crying because  _you_  were late, and not being able to do anything because she'd scream if you tried to help?!"

"Éponine, I don't know what else I can do!" Enjolras shouted, "I can't go back in time! What's done is done, why can't we just move on?!"

" _Because this isn't working_!" Éponine was red with anger, "You can't keep letting us down, Enjolras! We are  _married_! It's all very well and good, you going off to provide for us, but the only thing you  _can_  provide to help  _us_  as a  _family_  is yourself! We need you  _here_ , not coming and going whenever you get a bloody chance!"

"So, what do you want me to do?!" Enjolras' voice had risen to match the volume of her own, "Give up everything I've worked for? Give up on the very thing that almost killed you? Forget about the work that has made me who I am?! Because, I'm telling you now, Éponine, if that's what you think, then you can damn well-"

"ENJOLRAS, I AM PREGNANT." Éponine's words pierced through him like a knife. His words got stuck in his throat, his mouth gaping open from shock and in preparation to finally utter something in reply to what she'd just said. Éponine turned away from him, crossing her arms angrily, tears in her eyes.

"You... You're... I'm sorry,  _what_?"

"I'm pregnant, Enjolras," she replied, and he could hear the tears in her voice, "We're having another baby." Enjolras was too shocked to say anything. Éponine sighed, "I didn't want to tell you like this..."

"Well, I now know how Courf's sister felt when Gavroche told her the last time you were pregnant..." Enjolras muttered, "When... when did you find out?"

"Three weeks ago," she said quietly, sounding slightly ashamed.

" _Three weeks_?!" Enjolras exclaimed, "You've known three weeks and you didn't tell me?!"

"When was I supposed to have told you, Enjolras?!" Éponine demanded, "Two weekends ago, when you left to have a meeting with Grantaire? Last weekend, when you had a meeting with Marius?! Or perhaps last Tuesday, when you came in at half nine and almost collapsed from exhaustion? Yes, you're  _completely_  right; I missed so many _fantastic_ opportunities to tell you that we're having another child together." She finished sarcastically.

Enjolras sighed, running a hand over his face, "You're right, you're right... Sorry, that was a stupid question." He sighed again, "Look, Éponine... I'm sorry I'm so late tonight. I had a rough day, if I'm honest, but I should have made more of an effort to get here earlier."

He risked taking a step closer to her, and she turned around slightly.

"I'm sorry too," she said, her voice only just audible, "I shouldn't have snapped like that... And I definitely shouldn't have told you that I'm pregnant like that... I was just so upset because of the twins, and I was angry and-"

"I know," he interrupted her, "You don't need to be sorry. This is... this one's all on me." She smiled slightly.

"Can we forget this ever happened?" she asked, "Move on?"

"We need to make some changes first," Enjolras said, "Change number one: I'm not living on the other side of Paris anymore. You're right... that isn't working. I'll go to Moreau tomorrow morning, and tell him that I'll have to work from home if he's going to continue working with us." Éponine frowned.

"Enjolras, you can't do that!" she protested, "What if he decided to stop working for the cause?! What'll we do then?!" Enjolras smirked.

"Don't worry," he replied, "I'll throw in some not-so-subtle hints involving us building another barricade... this time,  _closer_  to the government buildings." Éponine smiled a proper smile then, so used to her husband's attempt at humour that her brain didn't know how to do otherwise.

"Change number two?" she prompted.

"I'm taking the next five days off work," he said. Éponine's mouth dropped open.

"You... you're taking  _time off_?!" Enjolras laughed.

"Yes," he said, his eyes twinkling, "We need to be a family again. That means no work, no pressure, no distractions. You, me, and the twins. Maybe we could take Gavroche over to see Azelma. We haven't seen her for a while." Before he could say anything else, Éponine kissed him fiercely. Enjolras laughed through the kiss, both from happiness and shock, and when Éponine pulled away, she had tears in her eyes.

"I love you," she said, "I love you so, so much..." Enjolras shook his head, wiping a tear away as it fell onto her cheek.

"You are silly, 'Ponine," he said quietly, "I hope you're not going to be this emotional for  _all_  of your pregnancy..." Éponine frowned, though her eyes were still lit up with a smile.

"Normal people say 'I love you too'." She told him, poking his chest. He kissed her again, pulling away with a smirk on his face.

"I love you too."

Éponine wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, "Isn't it funny what distance can do for your relationship?" she murmured in his ear. He hugged her back, sighing.

"It makes a couple or breaks them," he replied, "Or, in our case, both."

"A relationship is like a horse," Éponine said thoughtfully, "For it to reach its best, it first needs to be broken in." Enjolras laughed.

"That's an interesting metaphor," he replied.

"Papa?" he and Éponine both turned in the direction of the twins' bedroom, finding Evette standing in the doorway, one hand rubbing her eyes sleepily, the other clutching the arm of her teddy bear.

"Hello, Evie," he replied, scooping her up into his arms as she ran to him. She frowned at him.

"You're late." She said, her voice at its very grumpiest.

"I know," he said, grimacing, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. It won't happen again, I promise."

"Said that 'fore," Evette mumbled. Enjolras chuckled.

"I know I did. This time I mean it."

"You won't go 'way 'gain?" she checked, her hands resting on his shoulders.

"I'll be living here all the time from now on, don't you worry," he said, matching her serious tone. Evette's face lit up, and she smiled widely, showing off her now fully grown front teeth. Her arms flew around his neck, hugging him tightly as Éponine had been just moments earlier.

"Missed you, Papa," she murmured. Enjolras hugged her tightly.

"I missed you too. And I promise I won't go anywhere, Evie," he replied, "But  _you_  need to be going to bed." He replied, slightly worried that he'd start crying if he didn't move the conversation on (Good  _God_ , was he going soft?!).

"Not tired." Evette protested, though any effect her words might have had was ruined by the large yawn that followed.

"I don't think I believe you," Enjolras said disapprovingly, barely hiding his smile, "You go back to bed. I'll come and tuck you in again and say goodnight in a minute." Evette sighed (an almost perfect imitation of her father) as he placed her back on the ground.

"Storwy?" she asked, looking up at Enjolras pleadingly. He frowned.

"It's too late for stories," he replied. Evette pouted.

" _Pwease_?" she begged, her eyes wide. Enjolras sighed after a moment.

"Alright," he said, "But only a quick one. And  _only_  if you're under the covers by the time I come in." Evette hugged her father's legs quickly, before running back into her room.

Éponine had been watching the scene, her eyes sparkling, a small smile gracing her face as Enjolras turned back to her.

"Where were we?" he asked, resting his hands on her waist.

"My being over emotional in pregnancy," she said amusedly. Enjolras laughed.

"Oh yes," he said, "We're having a baby."

"Well, I'm glad you picked  _something_  up during our conversation, but I'm hoping you got a little more from it than just that."

"How did you find out?" he asked, frowning slightly, "You weren't sick again, were you?"

"No," she replied, "Well, not at first. I... sort of, fainted." Enjolras eyes widened, "It's nothing serious," Éponine interjected hurriedly, "Joly said it was common in pregnancy. It's absolutely nothing to worry about." Enjolras sighed, leaning to rest his forehead against hers.

"So, you're definitely pregnant?" he checked, "You didn't just... pass out?"

"Well, my fainting, added to the mood swings, tiredness, headaches and the fact that I almost threw up on Joly's shoes- thank  _God_  for the flower pot by the door- Joly was pretty certain. That, and the fact that I  _feel_  pregnant. It feels exactly like last time."

"Not  _exactly_ , I hope," Enjolras said quietly, "I don't think we could cope with having twins again..." Éponine laughed.

"No, I suppose not," she agreed.

"Papa! I'm under the covers!" Evette called. Enjolras smiled.

"I should go and tell her a story." He said, lifting his head away from hers. Éponine yawned.

"I'm going to bed," she told him, "Join me when you've finished."

"I will," he said, kissing her again, "Éponine?"

"Hmm?" she said as she turned away.

"I love you." She smiled.

"I hope you're not going to be this clingy for  _all_  of my pregnancy," She mocked. Enjolras rolled his eyes, "I love you too." She told him as she disappeared into their bedroom.

And, just like that, their argument was completely forgotten.

*. . .*

Enjolras entered the twins' room quietly, pushing the door so that it was only slightly open behind him. Evette was, indeed, tucked under the covers, waiting expectantly with a book on her lap. Enjolras smiled at her, moving to lift Elyse carefully from under her bed and tucking her in, kissing her forehead before moving to sit with Evette.

"This one." She said pushing the book towards him, shuffling over so that there was room for him to sit next to her against the wall. Enjolras nodded approvingly, getting himself comfortable and opening the book as Evette ducked under his arm and curled into his side.

"Once upon a time, in a land far away..."

* * *

The next morning, Éponine woke to find Enjolras' side of the bed empty, and got up to go in search of him.

She found him in the same position he'd been in the night before, sat up against the wall with the book now dangling rather carelessly out of his left hand. Evette was curled up with her head in his lap, cocooned in her blankets, both of them still fast asleep.

Hearing her mother come in, Elyse lifted her head groggily, looking around. She woke up immediately upon seeing her father, her face lighting up, "Papa!" she shrieked happily, launching herself from her bed to Evette's, scrambling up and hugging him tightly as Enjolras tried to calm his now racing heart.

"Good morning, Elyse," he chuckled, Evette also waking up due to all the commotion. Éponine laughed in the doorway.

"Missed you," Elyse told him, holding onto him for dear life.

"I missed you too," he replied, hugging her back.

"I'll get started on breakfast, shall I?" Éponine smiled, leaving Enjolras to reacquaint himself with his daughters.

* * *

"I'll be back this afternoon, Evie," he laughed as Evette hugged him goodbye for the seventh time.

"But you pwomised," she said tearfully, "You said you won't go 'way 'gain!"

"I'm only going for a few hours, Eve," he said, rubbing her back comfortingly, "And I'm going to make it up to you when I get back. I've got something special planned."

Éponine looked at him curiously, but said nothing as he prised Elyse from his knee.

"I'll be back by four," he murmured to her, kissing her cheek, "And this time, I'm not going to be late."

Éponine smiled, "I love you." She said.

"I love you too," he replied, kissing Elyse and Evette on the forehead before climbing into his carriage. As the twins waved to him until he was out of site, Éponine became aware of another person leaning against the wall. She sighed.

"Would you like to come upstairs, Grantaire?"

*. . .*

"Did you tell him?" Grantaire asked her as she placed a cup of tea on the table in front of him. She nodded.

"Well, I kind of... shouted it at him." She said uneasily.

"Unca 'Taire, Unca 'Taire!" Elyse squealed, running over with a piece of parchment in her hand. "Look what I drawed!" he smiled as he looked at the picture, immediately seeing Elyse, Evette, Enjolras and Éponine.

"You're quite the artist, Ellie," he said, nodding, "You might even be better than me!" Elyse grinned at him before running back to the living room floor to sit with her sister.

"That's the first picture in two weeks she's drawn with Enjolras in it," Éponine said thoughtfully, "I didn't think I should show him those ones." Grantaire nodded.

"If there's anything that's going to upset our Apollo, it's that," he agreed, "So when you said you shouted it at him, was it a... happy, 'I can't wait another second to tell you this' shout, or a..."

"It was an angry, 'you have no idea what I'm going through' shout," Éponine sighed, "Yesterday was really hard... the twins wouldn't do anything because it wasn't him asking them to. It just made me so upset and angry that when he finally walked in I just..."

"Snapped," Grantaire finished for her, "Completely understandable." Éponine was eternally grateful for Grantaire's company; he really was a good friend, when he was actually putting the effort in to be one.

"I feel like I overreacted," she admitted, "It's forgotten now, but... God, 'Taire, that was our first fight!" Grantaire almost spat his mouthful of tea across the table.

"You've been with him two and a half years, and that was your first fight?!" he said, ridiculously shocked, "You two are the most passionate, argumentative,  _stubborn_  people I know. How have you not argued before?!"

"We've never had anything to argue about," Éponine shrugged, "We've always just... agreed. And if we didn't agree, we'd compromise." Grantaire shook his head.

"I'll tell you something, Athena," he said, smiling at her, "If that doesn't tell you that you're meant to be together, then I don't know what will."


	37. A Happy Christmas to All

**What if it was Christmas in the Enjolnine household?**

Éponine had been expecting a lot from her second pregnancy; she had been expecting morning sickness as bad as, or worse than, last time; she had been expecting mood swings; she had been expecting pretty much everything she’d felt when she was pregnant with the twins.

But, as Christmas approached, she found that the first four months had gone ridiculously smoothly. She hadn’t been sick since she first found out that she was pregnant. Her mood swings hadn’t interfered with her everyday life, nor had it effected Enjolras’ (“It’s no worse than usual,” he’d smirked when Marius had asked). She was both pleasantly surprised and constantly on edge, waiting for everything to finally kick in.

But they didn’t, or not to the extent they did when she was pregnant with the twins, at least. The little girls were both excited by the prospect of having a little brother or sister, and Gavroche and all the Amis were looking forward to being uncles again. Cosette had politely turned down Éponine and Enjolras’ offers to be the baby’s godmother, stating that it was someone else’s turn.

“I have two beautiful goddaughters,” she’d said firmly, “You have more than one friend, ‘Ponine. I’d go with Lillé if I were you.” Éponine smiled.

“With Grantaire as godfather,” she smirked, “It’s been almost a year since Enjolras and I found out... do you think he’ll propose to her soon?”

“I think if he doesn’t then Courfeyrac is going to be a lot angrier than he will be if he does,” Cosette replied.

With Christmas just a week away, Éponine found herself wrapping presents at the dining table.

“Anything for me?” Enjolras said, walking in from his latest meeting with Moreau. After the disaster of Enjolras’ working away from home, he and the government official had decided on an arrangement that ultimately worked a lot better.

Éponine scoffed, “You wish, Apollo,” she said,. “Your present is hidden a lot better.” Enjolras smiled.

“It’s just as well I don’t mind surprises then, isn’t it?” He said, moving to the kitchen and starting to make tea, “Where are the twins?”

“Gavroche and Courfeyrac took them to a Christmas fair on the other side of the Seine,” Éponine said smiling, “I was quite enjoying the peace and quiet.” Enjolras sat down opposite her as he left the water to boil, picking up a piece of parchment with a sketch on it from underneath a box.

He smiled as he picked out Elyse, only noticeable due to her chestnut hair hanging down her back in ringlets. In comparison, Evette’s was almost always in a tight braid, tied with a different coloured ribbon every day. In the picture, Elyse was standing next to what looked to be a shattered mug, the look on her face all too innocent.

“This is brilliant, ‘Ponine,” he said quietly, smiling at the adorable look on his daughter’s face. Éponine grinned.

“I wouldn’t let her move for about ten minutes,” she said, “I almost felt guilty, but the look on her little face was just too precious to miss.” Enjolras chuckled.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Éponine said suddenly, “We need to go shopping for some frames.”

“For _what_?” Enjolras asked, getting up to take the boiling water off the hob.

“Picture frames,” Éponine said as if it was obvious, “You said last week that you despised Christmas shopping. So, I took the liberty of creating presents for everyone.”

“And when you say ‘created’, you mean...”

“Sketches,” Éponine replied, “I even painted some of them. I think I’m getting better at it, you know. They don’t look half bad.”

“Can I see?” he asked, setting a mug down in front of her.

“When they’re all finished and framed, yes,” Éponine said, smiling teasingly, “Not before.” Enjolras sighed dramatically.

“You drive a hard bargain, Athena,” he said, though some of his smile showed through.

“How was your meeting?” Éponine asked, sipping her tea.

“Intriguing,” Enjolras said, “Moreau actually looked _hopeful_ at the end of it. Honestly, it’s as if the last three and a half years he’s just been humouring us...” Éponine chuckled.

“Can you blame him?” she asked, “The whole thing _is_ a bit eccentric. And it’s completely out of the ordinary. Who, before us, fought for equal rights for the people on the streets?”

“That’s a good question,” Enjolras said thoughtfully, “I doubt we’re the first. The world is practically drowning in social inequality.” His wife shrugged.

“Maybe we should start pestering the king,” she said, only partly joking, “Build a barricade at the palace. That’s a reasonably good Christmas present, don’t you think?” Enjolras laughed.

“Are we going shopping for frames or not?” he asked, standing up and lifting his coat off a peg by the door. Éponine rolled her eyes.

“Fine, fine,” she said, “You don’t want to talk about the revolution right now. I understand.” Her eyes were glistening with humour as Enjolras rolled his own eyes.

“You know that I’d like nothing more than to debate politics with you, Athena,” he said, “But I’ve been talking about it all morning. I need a break.” Éponine feigned shock.

“I would never have expected you to say _that_ four years ago,” she said smirking.

“Sometimes life can revolve around more than one thing,” Enjolras said as a reply, “Come along, dearest Éponine. Christmas won’t wait, and I know what you’re like if you don’t get things your way. If we get the frames now, I might just avoid being splattered.” Éponine frowned.

“Considering I’m pregnant, I have an excuse!” she said indignantly, “You’re just lucky that I’m not currently having a mood swing. I’d quite happily rip your head off.”

“But you won’t,” Enjolras said, wrapping an arm around her waist, “Because you love me.” Éponine smiled, kissing him quickly.

“Yes, I do,” she said, “I’ll get my shawl.”

* * *

On Christmas day, Éponine and Enjolras were woken early by squeals and two figures bouncing on the bed.

“Mama!” Evette said happily, “Papa! Up! Up!”

“Pwease, Papa!” Elyse joined in, “It kiss-mas!”

Though technically this was the twins’ third Christmas, it was the first the two were old enough to truly enjoy. Their excitement quickly rubbed off on Éponine, though Enjolras was slightly more reluctant to leave the comfort of his bed.

“Christmas does not provide an excuse to wake up early,” he grumbled as Elyse bounced up and down on top of him.

“Don’t be grumpy,” Éponine scolded, “Come on you two, let’s go and get breakfast whilst Papa is being boring.”

The twins scrambled off the bed to follow their mother into the living room, where there were already presents sitting under the decorated tree in the corner of the room. The twins stared longingly at it, glancing at Éponine with pleading eyes.

“Breakfast first,” she said firmly, “ _Then_ presents.” The little girls sighed before rushing to the table, wriggling impatiently in their seats as they waited to eat their breakfast.

Enjolras joined them a few minutes later, still in his pyjamas, joining the twins at the table as Éponine made French toast.

“Good morning, mes filles,” he said.

“Bonjour, Papa,” the twins chorused back, completely absentminded as they continuously glanced sideways to watch Éponine. Enjolras chuckled.

“Time will go faster if you don’t wish it away,” he told them. The little girls frowned, Elyse crossing her arms stubbornly and Evette turning to gaze wistfully at the presents under the tree.

When Éponine finally put their plates in front of them, the two reached eagerly for their forks, freezing as Éponine coughed sternly.

“You seem to have forgotten that we say grace before we eat,” she said, taking her seat next to Enjolras and taking his hand in hers. The twins were saying their ‘amen’s about eight words early, but Éponine and Enjolras both let it pass; it _was_ Christmas, after all

* * *

Half an hour later, Éponine and Enjolras smiled lovingly as they watched their daughters open their Christmas presents. Within minutes, Elyse was drawing furiously in a new sketchpad with a new pencil, and Enjolras was amazed by the talent the little girl possessed at such a young age.

“She is most definitely her mother’s daughter,” he murmured to Éponine who grinned.

“She only possesses my drawing skills,” she corrected him, “Her ability to run wild and cause havoc for what she wants is much more _your_ forte than it is mine.”

“Mama, Mama!” Evette ran over happily, her new bonnet sitting lopsided on her head, “Is it right?” Éponine chuckled.

“Very nearly, Evie,” she said, straightening the bonnet and tying it expertly in a bow, “There. Now you look like a very respectable young lady!” Evette smiled.

“Merci, Mama!” she said as she ran back to join her sister, who was now smiling proudly at what was obviously a picture of their Christmas tree.

A knock at the door distracted the little family from the scene, and Éponine hauled herself from the sofa, hand resting on her ever-growing baby bump, to answer the door. Before she could reach it, however, it swung open to reveal a ridiculously excited Gavroche.

“Merry Christmas!” he said happily, hugging Éponine on his way in. Though he was now twelve years old, Gavroche was using the new life he had been given with Courfeyrac to make the most of Christmas in a way he have never been able to on the streets. The first Christmas he had spent with his ‘grand frère’ had been the first that Gavroche had ever experienced without fear of freezing to death in the December snow, or starving as the bourgeois indulged in their 12-course Christmas dinner.

Now, two years on, he was just as determined to appreciate the small privilege of spending the day with his family.

“He’s been up since six, asking me every five minutes when we’re coming here,” Courfeyrac said quietly to Éponine, rolling his eyes. Éponine chuckled.

“He’s twelve years old, Courf,” she reminded him, returning to sit next to Enjolras, “Let him love Christmas for a little while longer.”

“He can love it for as long as he likes,” Courfeyrac replied, “Goodness knows, he’s missed out on far too many as it is.” Éponine nodded, not being able to help the guilty feeling that sat deep inside her for letting her little brother go all those years ago. Courfeyrac put a comforting hand on her arm, “The important thing is that he’s here now.” Éponine nodded, smiling again, watching as Gavroche presented the twins with their gifts.

Elyse frowned suspiciously, “Père Noël bring presents! Not Unca’ Vroche!” Gavroche’s eyes widened and he turned immediately to Enjolras, Courfeyrac and Éponine for help.

“Errr...” Éponine looked around desperately at the two men, her mind void of an explanation for the twins.

“Père Noël is a very busy man, Ellie,” Enjolras said quickly, “Sometimes he forgets to drop off some of the presents, so he leaves them at a relative’s house instead, because he doesn’t have time to go back.” Elyse looked suspicious, but let the matter drop, returning her attention to the gifts in Gavroche’s hands.

“He got Lillé to help him with the presents,” Courfeyrac told Éponine and Enjolras the three of them moved into the kitchen, “He keeps saying he’s getting bored of mixing the two of them up all the time.”

“They’re getting more and more alike as they get older,” Enjolras agreed, “I used to be able to tell them apart in a heartbeat, but now I have to actually look properly and make sure I’m talking to the right twin!” Courfeyrac chuckled.

“What time are we going over to Cosette’s?” he asked, “I haven’t seen them in a while... I’m starting to think she and Marius are becoming reclusive again, like they did after their wedding!”

“Until ‘Ponine put Marius in his place,” Enjolras smirked, “Which you can do anytime you like, Ép. It was ever so funny last time...” Éponine smiled.

“Well, if he starts being pompous again, I’ll be sure to tell him so,” she said, “But I think we may have a situation in the living room...” Enjolras and Courfeyrac turned around to find the twins and Gavroche covered in wrapping paper, the three of them looking far too innocent.

“I’m not even going to ask,” Enjolras muttered, moving to peel a piece of paper from Evette’s forehead as the little girl looked up at him, a small smile on her face.

“Look, Papa!” she said excitedly, holding up a locket on a silver chain. Enjolras smiled.

“It’s very pretty, Evie,” he told her, “What do you say to Uncle Gavroche and Uncle Courfeyrac?”

The twins simultaneously thanked their uncles, “Merci, Unca ‘Vroche. Merci, Unca ‘Courf.” Elyse and Evette were slowly slipping into the habit of talking at the same time, which, in itself, was confusing Gavroche even further.

“Put it on?” Elyse asked Gavroche pleading, “Pwease?” Gavroche took the chain from her, smiling slightly at Lillé’s handiwork; he had chosen the small lockets because they were simple and he knew the twins would love them. However, their original design (a plain silver with no engravings or decoration) just didn’t do his plan justice.

It was Lillé (who had an uncanny artistic ability that made Gavroche think that she and Grantaire were just _meant_ to be together) who came up with the idea of having the twins’ initials engraved on the lockets. When they had come back from the engraver’s, Gavroche had been delighted and disappointed at the same time.

“There’s something missing,” he’d stated. Enjolras and Éponine had been _completely_ unhelpful in having both of the twins’ names starting with the same letter, which meant that the lockets wouldn’t help him tell them apart in the slightest. Lillé had looked at the lockets thoughtfully before smiling.

“Colour.” She said simply. Gavroche’s eyes lit up.

“That’s it!”

It took Gavroche a single look at the twins the next day to decide what colours he wanted each necklace to be. Éponine was wrapping the twins up in coats, scarfs, mittens and tiny berets, Elyse’s all in blue, Evette’s all in purple. He raised his eyebrows at his sister.

“’Ponine?” he questioned, “Why does Ellie wear blue and Evie wear purple?”

Éponine shrugged, “It’s only when we go out,” she told him, “I need to be able to tell them apart in a heartbeat, especially when they run off like this little one seems to like doing,” she said, tugging playfully on a strand of Elyse’s hair. Elyse pulled away with a frown, moving her hat back into place before running to wait with her sister by the door.

Gavroche’s plan was solid in his mind from that moment on, and Lillé was more than happy to oblige.

The end results were a meticulously painted ‘E’ in pale blue on Elyse’s locket and a purple one on Evette’s. Éponine looked at her brother with a look between surprise and confusion on her face.

“They must have cost you and Courf a fortune, Gav,” she said, eyebrows raised questioningly. Gavroche shrugged.

“Courf paid for most of it,” he admitted, “But I was helping around in the Musain a while back and Penelope gave me a few coins for that. And Monsieur Carrent at the baker’s asks me to do him a favour every so often.”

Enjolras shook his head in disbelief at the boy, “You’ve got your own little business there, Gavroche,” he said with a grin, “You could make some proper money if you go about it in the right way.”

Gavroche shrugged, “What do you think bought your Christmas present?” he said, smirking.

Enjolras rolled his eyes, “Maybe it’d be worth saving it?”

“Maybe we should save the discussions about economics for a day that’s, I don’t know... _not Christmas_?” Courfeyrac suggested with a smirk.

“Unca’ Courf!” Elyse ran over, a piece of paper from her new sketchbook in her hand, “I draw oo!” Courfeyrac crouched so that he was the same height as the toddler, examining the piece of paper she had in her hand.

He chuckled quietly, “Very flattering, Ellie,” he said, observing the squiggles that amounted to his black, curly hair amusedly, “Is this for me to keep?” Elyse nodded before running off again to badger her youngest uncle and sister. Courfeyrac shook his head in disbelief as he watched them, “Haven’t they grown?” he murmured quietly, almost to himself, as he folded the page and tucked it safely into his jacket pocket. Enjolras sighed, nodding.

“Don’t remind me,” he muttered, “They’ll be out in the world before we know it... thinking about _boys_...” Éponine laughed.

“Listen to you, you old man,” she nudged him playfully, “How can you think of the girls having relationships with some of the Amis have yet to settle down! Not even Gavroche has started talking about girls yet...”

Said twelve year old froze at this statement, turning to stare warningly at Courfeyrac, who simply grinned. Éponine looked between the two confusedly before her eyes widened and she turned to her brother with an expression that clearly told him that an unnatural amount of teasing was in his immediate future.

“So, Gav,” she said sweetly, “What’s your opinion on girls?”

“Hate them,” Gavroche said immediately, “They’re disgusting. I never ever want to be even remotely near a girl.”

Evette looked up at him with a frown on her face, “ _I’m_ a girl.” She said indignantly. Gavroche looked to Éponine desperately.

“He’s only joking, Evie,” Éponine promised her, “He loves you and Elyse very much. Don’t you, Vroche?”

“I love you to pieces, Evie,” he said quickly, picking his niece up and spinning her around. Evette giggled at that.

“Down! Down!” she squealed. When he set her back onto the floor her bonnet was once again sat slightly to one time, but this time it seemed the two year old couldn’t care less, looking up at her uncle with an expression of pure admiration.

Elyse stood up suddenly, walking purposefully up to him and crossing her arms, “You love _me_?” she questioned. Gavroche smiled, catching his niece’s subtle hint. He picked her up as well, spinning her around before settling her on his back.

“Of course I love you, Ellie,” he replied, setting off on a journey around the living room, Elyse laughing on his back as Evette chased after them.

“Three children under one roof,” Courfeyrac muttered, “Isn’t that just a recipe for chaos?!”

“Soon to be four under one roof, when this little one arrives,” Éponine said, resting her hand on her bump fondly, “I can’t believe how quickly the time has gone...”

“Will you have enough room in this flat, once the baby’s born?” Courfeyrac asked them, genuinely curious; Gavroche had taken the spare room that, so many years ago, Éponine had occupied as she was recovering from her heroic (if completely wasted on Marius) intervention on the barricades. The room that was previously Enjolras’ study had been transformed into the twins’ bedroom, his desk and bookcase being moved to one side of the living room.

“We’ve been wondering about that for a while, actually,” Enjolras admitted, “I mean, the baby will be in our room at first, of course, but once he or she is sleeping through the night they’ll need their own bedroom.”

“We need a house,” Éponine summarised for their friend, “We just don’t want to move away from you lot yet.”

Courfeyrac rolled his eyes, “It’s not like there aren’t houses in central Paris, ‘Ponine,” he pointed out, “Cosette and Marius live in one!”

Éponine shrugged looking to Enjolras, “I guess we just don’t want to leave this place yet.” Her husband nodded, slipping his hand into hers.

“Mama, Papa!” Evette ran over, “We go now?”

Enjolras checked the time before nodding, “We probably should get going if we’re going to meet Marius and Cosette before we go to Church.” Éponine nodded.

“Right, my petite mademoiselles,” she said, pushing herself up from the sofa, “Sunday outfits and new shoes, please.” Elyse poked Gavroche’s cheek insistently until he put her down on the floor, and she chased her sister into their bedroom, closely followed by Éponine, to change out of their pyjamas.

Gavroche collapsed onto the sofa next to Enjolras, “I really hope your next baby is going to be a boy.” He muttered, “Girls are hard work!”

Enjolras smirked, “I think we’ve got enough of a male presence in the Amis to make up for Éponine, Cosette and the twins,” he said, “But, if it’s any consolation, I hope Baby is a boy too. It’s somewhat intimidating to be constantly outnumbered by women in my own home. I think it’s time the sides were evened out a bit.”

Éponine’s head poked out of the twins’ bedroom, a smirk on her face, “You wish, dear,” she said, “Just wait. With me, the twins, Cosette, Zelma, Lillé and the rest... we might just create a _female_ version of Les Amis!”

Enjolras, Gavroche and Courfeyrac all turned to look at each other with appropriate expressions of fear on their faces; the existing Amis were a force to be reckoned with. Combining the same fighting spirit with the sheer determination and will power of the women they spent their lives with? Now _that_... _that_ was a terrifying prospect.

“Note to selves,” Courfeyrac muttered, “Let’s never annoy the girls. _Ever_.” Gavroche and Enjolras didn’t even need to look at each other to answer.

“Agreed."


	38. A Test of Friendship

**What if Éponine had to help a friend through a crisis?**

By the time Éponine was six months pregnant, she had a list of concerns as long as her arm that was continuously growing.

First of all, there were the twins (who happened to have caused concerns one through eight). They were growing up so fast Éponine could barely keep track of them. Growing up meant that they were becoming more self-sufficient, which simultaneously meant that she was becoming more redundant as a mother and also that they were getting themselves into _all kinds_ of mischief.

There was also the issue of how they would react to having a baby brother or sister; she wanted to believe that her daughters would make good big sisters, but they already had little fights about which of them got their parents’ attention the most and Éponine dreaded to think what it would be like with a third child in the mix.

This, of course, was not mentioning the fact that the more her bump grew, the more tired Éponine was getting, and the less able she was to break up said little fights. Though she was nowhere near as emotional as she had been during her last pregnancy, she found herself getting increasingly agitated and upset whenever the twins got themselves into another argument.

 _Then_ there was the matter of their flat not being anywhere _near_ big enough for both Éponine and Enjolras as well as three children (plus Gavroche, when he stayed). A growing family was a wonderful blessing, _if_ you had enough room to house them.

These family issues were not by any means, however, the only causes for concern in Éponine’s life. One that was becoming increasingly apparent to the young woman was Cosette.

Éponine hadn’t seen her best friend for months. There had been so many people at the Fauchelevent household at Christmas that she had barely managed to see Cosette for longer than a few minutes. She had sensed that her friend had wanted to tell her something all day but there hadn’t been a moment that had felt right enough to ask. She vaguely remembered Cosette mentioning having something to tell her before Christmas had even come around, but she’d been so busy with the twins and preparing for the new baby that she’d completely forgotten until she properly sat down to think about it.

“Ép?” Enjolras jolted Éponine from her thoughts. She’d been sat at the dinner table, a half-sketched picture of an old trinket box his mother had given them in front of her, her mind drifting to her best friend without her even realising.

“Sorry, did you say something?” Éponine asked him. Enjolras shook his head, returning from the twins’ room where he’d just tucked their daughters into bed.

“You’re looking very solemn,” he noted, “Is something wrong?”

His wife sighed, “It’s just… have you heard from Marius recently?”

Enjolras opened his mouth to reply but closed it again as he reconsidered his answer, “Now that you mention it, it’s been a few weeks since we spoke. He asked if he could take a break from meetings for a while. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, seeing as I’ve got you and Grantaire to discuss things with. It is rather odd, though.”

Éponine’s frown deepened, “I think I might go and see them tomorrow,” she said decisively, “Lillé offered to look after the twins so that I could have a bit of a break.”

Enjolras looked at his wife disapprovingly, “Then perhaps you _should_ have a break, ‘Ponine,” he said, “It isn’t good for your health to be running around like you do all the time, especially at six months pregnant!”

“I doubt I’ll be away for more than just the morning, Enj, and it’s hardly ‘running around’,” she said, rolling her eyes at him, “Besides, if something has happened to make Marius and Cosette go into hiding again then I want to know what it is!”

Enjolras shook his head slightly, reluctantly admitting defeat, “Fine,” he said, “But if I come home and find you running around like a madwoman, then I will not hesitate to use force to get you to put your feet up.”

* * *

Éponine couldn’t place the nerves she was feeling when she approached the front door of the Fauchelevent house the next morning. She was already tired, the twins having kicked up a (highly unnecessary) fuss about having to spend the day with Lillé.

She paused before knocking but pulled herself together, reminding herself that this was not just her best friend, but a member of her family.

When Valjean opened the door, Éponine knew that she’d waited far too long to visit.

The man looked like he’d aged about ten years, heavy bags under his eyes and his entire appearance slightly dishevelled. A weary smile was on his face as he took Éponine in.

“Please, come in, come in,” he said quickly, closing the door behind her before wrapping her in a hug, “How are you, dear?”

“I’m fine,” Éponine said, pulling back with a look of pure worry on her face, “What’s going on? Is Cosette alright? Marius? _You_?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me, Éponine,” Valjean chuckled, though there was little humour in his voice, “And Marius is fine also.”

Éponine frowned at him, “And Cosette?”

Valjean sighed quietly, “That is a conversation I think is best had over tea.”

Ten minutes later found Éponine sat in the living room with Valjean. After another couple of minutes, Marius joined them, looking even worse than Valjean did. Éponine pulled herself up to give him a hug and he kissed her cheek lightly.

“Bonjour, ‘Ponine,” he said, considerably more subdued than usual.

Éponine smiled at him sadly, “What’s going on, Marius?”

He shook his head, sitting down and pouring himself some tea before doing the same for her and his father-in-law. Éponine sat down again beside him and waited impatiently for him to explain.

“Cosette has been… unwell, these past few months,” he said softly.

“Unwell?” Éponine prompted after a moment.

Marius sighed shakily, blinking away tears. Éponine reached out and took one of his hands in her own, squeezing lightly to silently offer her support.

“She was pregnant,” Marius explained. Éponine felt a chill run through her when she considered what her friend had just admitted.

“’Was’,” she repeated quietly after a moment, “Oh, Marius, I… I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head, wiping away a stray tear that had fallen, “I’ve mostly come to terms with it now. We were experiencing… difficulties over Christmas and the doctors were trying some tonics and various other remedies to help, but… when January came around it was clear that there was nothing to be done.”

Éponine could barely even comprehend what her friends must have been going through over the previous couple of months. The hand that wasn’t holding Marius’ instinctively came to rest on her bump.

“Cosette has not been dealing with the loss very well,” Valjean informed Éponine, sipping his tea, “We were beginning to wonder if it was perhaps time to try a different method to get her to re-join the world.”

Éponine shook her head, “I’ve found myself thinking about her a lot lately,” she admitted, “It’s like I sensed that she needed me.”

Valjean smiled slightly, “A bond between sisters is a hard one to break.”

“She’s barely left our bed since it happened,” Marius told Éponine, “She barely talks, barely eats… I don’t know what else to do, ‘Ponine.”

Éponine shook her head, “I’m not sure I’ll be of any help,” she said reluctantly, “But I could talk to her, at least?”

Valjean nodded, “I think seeing a new face will do her good. Remind her that there is a world out there.”

Éponine nodded, “Alright,” she murmured, “Do you mind if I just go up?”

Valjean smiled, waving a hand flippantly, “Éponine, you are a member of this family. You may go wherever you please.”

Éponine smiled almost awkwardly as she stood up, brushing down her dress subconsciously. She hoped her baby bump wouldn’t make Cosette feel worse about not being pregnant herself, but the looks on Marius and Valjean’s faces when they’d been talking about Cosette made Éponine think that her best friend had probably hit rock bottom.

She made her way upstairs, feeling more and more uneasy with every step. She was kicking herself about feeling so nervous to see her best friend, someone she had known for over a decade. She reminded herself that she wasn’t the one going through hell right now: Cosette was.

She knocked softly on the door to Cosette’s bedroom when she reached it. The responding ‘come in’ was so quiet Éponine almost missed it.

She pushed the door open to see Cosette sat up in bed. Éponine wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but she realised as soon as she met the tired, defeated eyes of her friend that this was pretty much it. Cosette’s hair looked dull, like it hadn’t been brushed in a while. There were bags under her eyes too heavy for someone who had supposedly spent most of her time in bed. Her skin was paler than normal and the smile she was trying to force almost made Éponine cry then and there.

“Oh, Cosette,” she pushed the door shut behind her and rushed to wrap her friend in a hug. Her friend immediately broke down into sobs, clinging to the back of Éponine’s dress so nightly her fingernails dug in.

Cosette’s choking sobs broke Éponine’s heart but she was at a loss for what to say. She was more than aware of how her friend had to bend around her growing baby bump to hug her, and couldn’t even imagine how she would feel if she were in Cosette’s place.

“’Sette, I’m so, _so_ sorry,” Éponine said, tears in her own eyes that she blinked away angrily; she didn’t have any right to be upset right now, not when she had everything her best friend had wished for.

Cosette shook her head, wiping some of the tears on her face away, “It… it’s alright,” she said, breathing heavily.

“It’s not,” Éponine said, shaking her head as she wiped some more tears from Cosette’s face, “I know it’s not. But… I think it will be, ‘Sette. I know it hurts now but this was only your first try. It just… wasn’t your time.”

Cosette shook her head, “No, I… the doctor said that I probably won’t be able to have a baby, ‘Ponine. Ever.”

Éponine’s breath caught in her throat and tears came to her eyes once again, “Oh, Cosette,” she said, “I’m so sorry, Marius didn’t say-”

“Marius doesn’t know,” Cosette said quickly, gripping her friend’s hands in her own, “You mustn’t tell him, Éponine. Please, I’m begging you.”

Éponine frowned at her friend, “Cosette, you… you can’t keep something like that a secret from him!”

Fresh tears started falling down Cosette’s face, “Éponine, I can’t tell him something like that. What if… what if he doesn’t want me anymore? I can’t risk losing him, not after… not after this.”

Éponine sighed, pulling her friend into another hug, “Cosette, Marius is besotted with you. He loves you so dearly, nothing could make him leave. And besides, just because you can’t have children, it doesn’t mean that you’ll never be parents.”

Cosette pulled back, frowning at her friend, “What… ‘Ponine, I _can’t have children_. Marius and I are never going to get the chance to raise a child of our own.”

“There are hundreds, if not _thousands_ , of children out there without families, Cosette!” Éponine exclaimed, “They would give the world to have parents like you and Marius. You have the opportunity to turn this horrible experience into a blessing for a child out there. All you have to do is be willing to welcome them into your life.”

Cosette seemed utterly baffled, “You mean… adopt?” Éponine breathed a laugh.

“Cosette, my dear, lovely Cosette,” she said, “Do I honestly have to remind you that _you are adopted_?”

Cosette’s eyes widened slightly as if she actually had forgotten the fact that Jean Valjean was not her real father. She shook her head, “But it won’t be the same.”

“And why should it be?” Éponine asked her, “After everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve fought for with the Amis… why should we settle for ‘the same’?! We’re fighting for a world where the abnormal is the norm, and we should be leading by example.”

“But… I want my own baby, ‘Ponine.” Cosette admitted after a moment, sounding utterly defeated.

Éponine smiled sadly, “I know,” she said, “And I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re feeling. But, I guess… I guess what I’m trying to say is that this isn’t the end of the world. You _can_ still be parents, and, even better than that, you can give a little boy or girl a chance at a great life.”

Cosette considered this for a mount before squeezing Éponine’s hand again, “I need to tell Marius, don’t I?”

Éponine nodded, “I think so, ‘Sette.”

Cosette nodded once, seeming to steel herself. “Thank you,” she said, smiling at Éponine gratefully, “Marius and Papa have been wonderful, but… I suppose nothing they said helped because I hadn’t told them everything.”

“You shouldn’t keep secrets like that to yourself, Cosette,” Éponine said disapprovingly, “If only because they’ll eat you up inside.”

Cosette nodded, “I just felt so lost. I couldn’t even begin to _think_ about how to tell Marius. And he’s been so loving these last few weeks, making sure I’m comfortable and telling me that everything would be alright. I… I’ve been awful to him, really. I’ve done nothing but push him away.”

“He’ll understand,” Éponine assured her, “When will you tell him?”

“Now,” Cosette said immediately, “I’ve waited long enough. He needs to know.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

Cosette shook her head, “No, Marius and I… we need to discuss this, just the two of us.”

Éponine could see the unwillingness in her friend’s eyes; the defeat was still there too, but there was a determination that had been absent before.

“We’ll get through this,” Cosette muttered, “Marius and I will deal with this together.”

Éponine nodded, “And the two of you are never alone. You have me and Enjolras, not to mention the other Amis. We’ll all be here to help you.”

Cosette nodded, the smallest smile on her face, “What would I do without you, ‘Ponine?” she asked.

Éponine shook her head, “I’ll be honest, I don’t really feel like I’ve done anything,” she admitted. Cosette shook her head.

“No, you’ve done so much!” she insisted, “Marius and my father… I know they meant well, but all they did was tell me that everything would be alright without giving me any proof. All I could do is ask myself how it could _ever_ be alright if I couldn’t have a child. You’ve given me that proof, Éponine, that there are… there are other ways to be a parent. So, thank you. So, so much.”

Éponine hugged Cosette again to hide the tears that were once more in her eyes. “I love you so much, ‘Sette.”

“I love you too,” Cosette replied, sniffling slightly. “Now you should go. I bet Enjolras wanted you resting all day today, didn’t he?”

Éponine grimaced, “You know us both too well,” she replied, “But it’s fine. I’d give up every rest day in the world if it meant making you feel better.”

* * *

When Éponine left the house ten minutes later, it was with the knowledge that Marius was currently sat with his wife in their bedroom, finding out for the first time that he would never have a child of his own. And yet that hint of determination in Cosette’s eyes reassured her, reminding her that her best friend had been through as much as any of them over the previous few years and had always made it out the other side.

As she made her way home, a hand resting on her bump to feel the baby kicking reassuringly beneath it, Éponine wondered how she would have dealt with not only miscarrying but also the news that she could never carry a child. She was certain that she would have descended much further into despair than Cosette had, and she couldn’t help but be slightly surprised by how easily her best friend’s view on the situation had been swayed.

Éponine frowned slightly, wondering if she’d ever understand what went on in Cosette’s head, behind the façade of pretty dresses and emotional outbursts. There was a completely different side to Cosette that Éponine had still yet to see the full extent of, and there was only one thing Éponine knew for sure.

Cosette Fauchelevent was far from the one-dimensional emotional blonde that so many people expected her to be. And she was most certainly _not_ to be messed with.


	39. Man's Best Friend

** What if Enjolras came home with a surprise? **

 

Éponine was expecting the last few months of her pregnancy to be difficult.

She had expected Enjolras to _ease_ that difficulty, not add to it.

As it turns out… she was wrong.

The Amis had been increasingly helpful from around the day she hit eight months pregnant. The twins spent more time in other people’s houses than they did their own home, and Éponine would feel guilty except she was almost too tired to get out of bed most mornings.

Cosette, slowly reintegrating herself into society, with the help of Marius and their other friends, spent a lot of time in Enjolras and Éponine’s apartment, helping with the twins when they were there and helping Éponine with anything and everything else when they weren’t. Éponine really didn’t know what she’d do without her, but Cosette had stopped accepting her thanks and appreciation after the first week, when Éponine had almost collapsed from exhaustion and it was clear that she really couldn’t function without her anyway.

Enjolras had been needed a lot in central Paris, never to the point that they’d been at about a year previously, but not at home as often as usual either. He really was still a godsend, bringing Éponine whatever she needed on her worst days after Cosette had gone home, even refusing to travel to work some days when she really needed the extra company. It was getting to the point where both of them were desperate for the pregnancy to be over, even though they doubted that it would be any easier once the baby arrived.

All things considered, Éponine was having a fairly difficult time of it, and her friends and family appeared to be helping in whatever ways they could.

Or so she thought, until she met Frederick.

It had been a particularly difficult day; Cosette had gone off for the day with Marius (Éponine was glad, really, because she was beginning to feel like a burden on her friends as she went into the last month before the baby was due). Enjolras had, of course, been called in to give an account of something or other (he’d muttered angrily all morning about how he could easily put it in a letter, but ultimately went off in a carriage with a sulky look on his face). And typically, the twins were in an extremely antagonistic mood with none of the Amis available to look after them.

After a stressful morning in which the twins spent a grand total of four, almost straight, hours crying between them, Éponine put them down for a nap and dropped onto the sofa, falling asleep for an hour herself.

She woke up to the baby kicking against her stomach, which growled in response, and Éponine finally realised that she’d been so preoccupied with getting the twins ready that morning that she’d completely forgotten to eat breakfast.

She quickly buttered a piece of bread and cut off a slab of cheese, wandering over to the door to the twins’ room to check on them. They were both, blissfully, still asleep and Éponine sighed in relief, returning to the sofa and sitting down, rubbing at her aching back with a grimace.

“I can’t wait for you to get here, Little One,” she said quietly, bringing her hand around to rest on her bump, “Because having you in there is making Mama really quite tired.”

She got a whole hour of peace before Evette wandered through, rubbing her eyes as she climbed onto the sofa and cuddled up with her mother.

“Bonjour, Evie,” Éponine said, kissing the top of her daughter’s head, “Did you enjoy your sleep?”

Evette nodded, “Elyse still sleeping.”

Éponine nodded, “That’s alright,” she said, “What do you want to do?”

“Story?”

Éponine smiled, “A story it is,” she replied, “Why don’t you go and find a book that you want to read?”

Evette predictably chose a book they had read many times before, and Éponine was glad that she didn’t have to concentrate too hard on the story.

Elyse came and joined them soon after she started, curling up on Éponine’s other side. It was the quietest they had been in a while, and Éponine relaxed slightly, hoping that the rest of the day would be equally as calm.

Of course, the second the story was over and the twins had woken up properly, they were wreaking havoc again, and when Enjolras wasn’t home by five, Éponine realised that it would be a solo bedtime mission that she really could do without.

Éponine was all but completely burnt out by the time she heard the front door opening, signalling Enjolras’ return. She was sat on her bed reading a book, and was about to call out to him when she heard him hushing someone quietly. She frowned slightly, knowing that the twins were both fast asleep by now (after two hours of trying, they would not be leaving their beds until the morning if Éponine had anything to do with it).

Her husband’s whispering was too quiet for her to make out any words, so she pulled herself out of bed, making her way to stand in the doorway to their room. Enjolras had his back to her and her frown deepened.

“Enj?”

He froze where he was, the whispering stopping immediately. He slowly turned around and Éponine simply raised her eyebrows at him.

“What is that?” she asked.

Enjolras smiled sheepishly, “This is Frederick.”

The small bundle in his arms stirred slightly, a tiny head poking out and big brown eyes staring at her.

“That… that is a puppy, Enjolras.”

Her husband nodded seriously, “He was wandering around by himself outside the government buildings,” he explained, “He bit a police officer who tried to get him away from the gate. I felt like he supported our cause so… I bought him home.”

Éponine shook her head incredulously, “Enjolras, we barely have enough room for us and the twins in this place,” she pointed out, “Let alone when the baby comes. And not to _mention_ when Gavroche is here…”

“But… look at him, ‘Ponine!” Enjolras said, holding the puppy out to her, “He can’t survive out there by himself. And it would go against everything we stand for if we turned him away when he’s seen as an enemy of the State!”

Éponine’s eyes widened as she scoffed quietly, “An enemy of the State?! Do you not think that that’s a little bit melodramatic?!”

Enjolras shook his head, “He bit that police officer, ran off and almost crashed straight into my feet, Éponine,” he said, “It was like he was destined to do it as soon as I walked out of the government buildings. You can’t say no to destiny!”

“You can when you haven’t got enough room, time or energy to look after a puppy!” Éponine protested, trying to keep her voice down to avoid waking the twins whilst still conveying her annoyance, “Enjolras, seriously, this isn’t plausible. And more than that, this is _completely_ out of character for you!”

Enjolras shrugged, “I want to keep him.”

Éponine met her husband’s stubborn gaze, surprised; she hadn’t even known that Enjolras _liked_ dogs, and they’d been married for over three years. She shook her head.

“Who knows what he could be carrying, Enjolras,” she said, “And me getting sick right now, or one of the twins…”

“I already took him to a friend of Joly’s,” Enjolras said quickly, “He specialises in animal anatomy and he said that, other than being a little underweight, he’s a perfect puppy.”

“No,” Éponine said firmly, “I love you Enjolras, and if it were any other time, I might be on board. But I am due to give birth in _four weeks_. We cannot look after another living thing that’s entirely dependent on us when we’re about to have three of our own children to take care of.”

Enjolras sighed, looking down at the puppy in his arms, the animal’s deep brown eyes staring back questioningly. “Fine,” he murmured quietly, “But it’s too late to do anything about it tonight now. Can you just hold him whilst I find something for him to sleep in? I swear,” he added quickly, holding the puppy out to her, “I will take him out and find him a new home first thing in the morning. But I can’t just let him back out on the streets, ‘Ponine.”

His wife stared at him for a moment before sighing, holding out her hands, “Give him to me.”

Enjolras smiled slightly, passing her the puppy and kissing her on the cheek before disappearing into the spare bedroom to search for some sort of box.

Éponine was left standing in the middle of their living room, the golden-brown puppy sat quite happily in her arms. She looked down at him and he looked right back at her, his little tongue poking out slightly as his tail thumped softly against her bump, the baby kicking back in response.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she told the dog firmly, shifting him slightly to get a betting grip, “We don’t have time for a puppy, no matter how cute you are.”

He lifted his head and his wet nose bobbed her chin gently. Éponine suppressed a smile, kicking herself internally.

“No, really,” she said forcefully, “I can’t deal with three children and a puppy. That’s not plausible. Not to mention the fact that I actually have to help Enjolras reform the _entire country_ …”

Frederick seemed like he couldn’t care less about the issues of the repressed, whining softly and licking her chin before looking up at her again. Éponine sighed, shifting him again so that she could cautiously stroke the top of his head. He immediately leaned into her touch and she laughed quietly as his tail sped up, the baby kicking almost in time.

When Enjolras returned five minutes later, an old battered crate in hand that he was reasonably sure had once been a part of their barricade, he found his wife sat on the sofa, one hand resting on her bump and the other tucked around the puppy that was curled up at her side. Both Éponine and Frederick were asleep, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight, wishing he had some of Éponine’s artistic ability so that he could capture the scene.

Instead, he placed the crate quietly on the floor, resting his hands on Éponine’s shoulders from behind the sofa as he kissed the top of her head softly.

“I take it he won you over, then?” he asked once Éponine had woken up slightly.

She grimaced, “He’s too cute for his own good,” she replied, but there was no malice in her tone, “We’ll keep him for two weeks. If he’s too much of a pain, you can find him a new home. If he behaves himself… then he can stay.”

Enjolras smiled, heading off to find a blanket to line the crate he had found as Éponine started getting ready for bed. He had known, almost as soon as he’d passed her the puppy, that Éponine wouldn’t be able to say no to the tiny dog once she’d held him. Enjolras had been exactly the same; it had taken a single look into the puppy’s sparkling, mischievous eyes and the tiniest lick on his hand when he’d picked him up, and Enjolras had been sold.

By the time he returned with the blanket, Éponine was in bed, Frederick curled up at the end by her feet, the crate nowhere in sight. Enjolras sighed, and the dog lifted his head, staring up at him.

“I hope you don’t think you’re going to be sleeping there forever,” Enjolras murmured, pointing at the dog firmly, “I already have to share my bed with two children on a regular basis.”

“Exactly,” Éponine replied through a yawn, “You can’t have favourite Enjolras. Besides, Freddie likes it on the bed.”

“Freddie?!” Enjolras muttered, changing into his pyjamas, “Our dog’s name is Frederick!”

“I like Freddie better,” Éponine said. The puppy yapped quietly in response and Éponine grinned, “See? He likes Freddie better too.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes, climbing into bed and kissing Éponine softly, “I can’t believe that you didn’t want him fifteen minutes ago and now you’re… partners in crime.”

Éponine smirked at him, “You’ve got to choose your battles, Enj, dear,” she said, “This was probably not the best battle for you.”

Her husband simply rolled his eyes again, putting his hand on her bump and smiling softly, “We’re going to have three children this time next month.”

“Unless this one decides to stay in a little longer,” Éponine pointed out, “Then again, the twins made their catastrophic first appearance early. Who knows? Maybe we’ll have three children by this time next _week_.”

Enjolras frowned, “Let’s not tempt fate,” he said, “We’re not ready for him or her yet.”

“That’s a good point actually,” Éponine said, “We’re not even slightly ready. I don’t even know where a lot of the twins’ new-born stuff _is_ …”

“Let’s deal with it tomorrow,” Enjolras said, yawning, “Honestly, it’s been a very long day.”

“It would have been significantly shorter if you hadn’t brought a puppy home.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t love him already, Ép.”

“I’m just saying that I wouldn’t have _chosen_ to have him, Enj.”

“Oh really?”

“Really!”

“Need I remind you that you just gave him the nickname ‘Freddie’.”

“That means _nothing_.”

“What’s wrong with just calling someone by their actual _name_?!”

“Well, Freddie is cuter.”

“You’ve spent too much time with the Amis over the years.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have started a revolution.”

“… Goodnight, Athena.”

“Goodnight, Apollo.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on ff.net and I'm hoping that posting it from the beginning here will prompt me into actually adding some more to it! One-shots written from prompts in the form of several 'What if...?' questions. Comments and prompts are greatly appreciated :)


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